


Master and Slave: Growing Up

by Pantherlily



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kidlock, M/M, Modern AU, Teenlock, Unilock, army John, slavelock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 124,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantherlily/pseuds/Pantherlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow the life of Sherlock and John as they get older, master and slave respectively. Based off an RP I found on Omegle and later continued via e-mail. Kept it in RP format.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John tugged at the collar that he was still not used to wearing. He did it to distract himself that he didn't know where he was going and quite frankly he was scared. He was sitting the the biggest car he had ever ridden in, wearing clean brand new clothes and a collar with a bow stuck too it of all things. He knew he was suppose to be someone's birthday present, but a bow? John sighed sadly. He wasn't even supposed to have been sold. He was gonna grow up and work in the stables like his dad did and work hard for his master. But apparently he had been sold for a good price and was now going to be some rich kids birthday present. He laid back roughly in his seat and resisted the urge to kick the back of the seat in front of him.  
  
Sherlock was a difficult child to please. Most things bored him within seconds. It was his birthday and he couldn't care less. His parents and older brother always got him the most ridiculous things. He supposed most boys his age would like all the toys, but he was hardly interested in playing with things. He would rather do an experiment or read a new book. His parents had promised him something new this year but wouldn't tell him what it was. He sighed and turned to lay on his side on the bed, so he could face the wall and pout.  
  
John looked out the window as he pulled up to his new master's estate. It was a huge house, bigger than his old one for sure. And it seemed to be on a lot of land. John hoped he would be able to play outside like he had at his old home. He hoped they had animals too. The driver opened his door and took his hand, pulling him out of the car. John didn't have any bags or anything. He was told his new master would dress him in new clothes however he wanted. The driver handed him off to a maid at the front door, and she took his hand too and guided him through the house. It was ever grander on the inside, John thought. He was brought to a sitting room and made to sit on the floor next to a large pile of presents. The maid straightened his bow and told him to sit nicely until it was time for Master Sherlock to open his presents. John nodded, wondering if Sherlock was his new owner.  
  
A servant came to fetch him from his room. It was time to see what his parents had got him. With an angry sigh, Sherlock rolled off the bed. He glared at the servant, as if having to leave his room was their fault. He stalked down the stairs, not caring he was wearing his long robe and not 'proper clothing' as his parents often told him he _should_ wear when at a party or whatever other dull social gathering he was forced to attend to. He glanced around the sitting room, expecting stacks and stacks of presents of things he would probably never even use. Instead he found a boy with a collar _and_ a ridiculous looking bow on it. What...? Was this his present? Well, this certainly was something new and not what he expected. It wasn't often he was surprised by things, as he could usually figure out most things out on his own simply by observing his surroundings. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced over at his parents and they smiled hopefully at him. Right. He sighed in resignation and moved over to the other boy.  
  
John hadn't been sitting in there long when two adults came into the room. They were dressed like free-people and were probably the owners of the house. They had probably been the ones who bought him. John ducked his head like he was suppose to and the woman cooed. She rubbed the top of his head and called him darling. John couldn't help but have a little smile, but didn't raise his head yet. The couple sat on the sofa and after a few more minutes he heard another set of footsteps. He looked up to see a boy about his age being brought in by a slave. He was obviously a free-boy, but was in his PJ’s. John wished he could wear his PJ’s on his birthday. That would be nice. The boy moved a little closer to him, but seemed unsure what to do. John wasn't sure either. No one had told him what he was supposed to do, just to be a good present for the boy. He got up on his knees and put his hands on his thighs, all while ducking his head. His mum had told him this was always a good way to greet masters as it showed respect, but didn't require you to bow to the floor. He felt a little silly doing it though, and a little chuckle escaped him.  
  
Sherlock had never liked the whole bowing and scraping thing. It had taken a lot conditioning just to get the staff at the house to not do such stupid things. Or call him 'Young Master Holmes.' He hated that the most. "Please don't do that...it's...annoying..." He heard his father clear his throat, rather loudly but he merely rolled his eyes. He didn't care if was teaching the boy 'bad slave manners.' If this boy was his, then he could train and condition him anyway he saw fit couldn't he? Sod everyone else. He glanced over to his parents again. "If that's it...I am just going back to my room..." He looked back over to the boy. "Come on..." He realized he didn't even know the boys name. "...whatever your name is..." He still really wasn't sure what he was going to do with a personal slave but maybe he could use the boy for experiments. That could prove interesting.  
  
John took his hands away from his thighs and put them by his side the second Sherlock told him to stop. He let himself raise his head just a little to look at his new master. He was really pale and had black curly hair. He didn't look like he went outside much, and he was wearing a robe in the middle of the day. John couldn't help but frown at the way the boy talked to his parents. He didn't sound grateful at all. He sounded a little upset really. Did he not like John? Probably not, seeing how he didn't even ask his name. John felt a little sick suddenly and wondered if his new master already had decided to hate him. That would be hard to deal with, seeing how he was suppose to be the boys personal slave. He scrambled to his feet as Sherlock told him to follow. He didn't even ask for his name and that just made him feel a lot sicker. "Yes, Master Sherlock," he said, his head low again from worry. He bowed at Sherlock's parents before following his new master.  
  
Sherlock didn't look behind him to see if the other boy was following. He went back up to his room, certain his parents were not approving of his behavior at all. But then again, when had they? He didn't care about growing up to be a respectable member of society. He liked doing his own thing. He climbed up on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment, fingers under his chin, before looking back over to the boy. "Close my door. Also, just Sherlock is fine. Being all prim and proper is a waste of time. It is more efficient to get things done without all the unnecessary decorum. You are my boy. No one else's. That means you do what I say and answer to no one but me. Not...even my parents..." He nodded and smirked a little at that, quite liking the sound of that. "Understood?"  
  
John followed Sherlock closely. He didn't even seem to be paying attention to him at all. They got to what had to be Sherlock's room and John shut the door behind him. He looked around, wondering if he would sleep in here or in a slave's quarter. Personal slaves at his old house slept in their master's room for some reason. Sherlock laid on the bed and John continued to stare at the floor, waiting for Sherlock to say something. Finally he did. John jumped at being suddenly addressed, but listened to the other boy carefully. He talked more like a grown up than a child, John thought. "Yes, Sherlock." John said, making sure to say it without the title. He was glad Sherlock seemed a little interested in him. He had even called John his, which was kind of nice. "I'll make sure to only listen to you."  
  
Sherlock nodded. "Good." He went back to staring at the ceiling in thought, his fingers had never moved from under his chin. He was trying to decide what he could with his own boy. He usually avoided interacting with anyone in the manor, so he wasn't really sure what to do. He looked back over to his slave. "Since you are mine only, you won't mingle with those other servants. You will sleep in here with me. On the floor by the bed. You are to be in the same room as me, where I can keep an eye on you until I say otherwise." He hummed in thought once more, his gaze on the boy but seemingly staring right through him until his eyes came into focus once more. "Oh and take off that stupid looking collar. The bow on it makes you look ridiculous."  
  
John listened carefully as Sherlock told him more orders. He would only be able to talk to Sherlock it looked like, which made him sad. He had had lots of friends at his old master's house, all of them children of the other slaves. It looked like Sherlock would have to be his only friend. He didn't like the sound of sleeping on the floor either. He looked down over by Sherlock's bed. At least it was carpeted, and hopefully Sherlock would give him a blanket too. "You don't have to keep an eye on me all the time," John said, feeling a bit insulted. He was old enough to look after himself most of the time. Sherlock continued to throw orders at him and John nodded. He took the bow off first, setting it on the table, before undoing the buckle on his collar. It was a little hard but he got it and placed it on the table beside the bow. He rubbed his neck, happy to have the itchy thing off. "Better, sir?" He asked, forgetting Sherlock's rule about manners.  
  
"Don't talk back! I will watch you at all times if I want! You are mine!" Despite being rater grown up for his age, it was clear Sherlock was still very much a child when it came to getting his way and he pouted over some rather frivolous things. "It's Sherlock. Not sir. Get it right." He sighed in frustration, turning his back on the boy. "Figures my parents would get me an idiot," he muttered to himself, not caring if the slave heard or not. Now he was in bad mood all over again. He hated his birthday. Nothing ever went right. He pouted in silence for quite sometime before rolling over to stare at the boy again. "You must have a name...so what is?" He seemed over his tantrum for the time being and he scrutinized the boy closely for the first time. "You have always been a slave. Probably worked outside, you are a bit tanned. Stables I bet, most slaves your age get their start there." He was talking more to himself than to the boy at this point.  
  
John threw up his arms when Sherlock started to yell at him, as if he was expecting to be hit. He didn't get hit, but Sherlock did continue to yell at him and call him an idiot. John sat on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chin, looking at Sherlock's back as he pouted at the wall. "Sorry, Sherlock,” he said, not sounding very sincere. There hadn't been a reason to yell. And he never said he wasn't Sherlock's. Stupid boy just over reacted over everything. Sherlock finally rolled over and John but his knees back down and just sat normal, not wanting Sherlock to think he was childish. Even if Sherlock was super childish, apparently. "Its John Watson," he said, as Sherlock looked at him closely. John's mouth fell open a little when Sherlock talked. "That's right. I wanted to work in the stables when I grew up too," he said, not thinking that it might make Sherlock mad again.  
Sherlock smiled pleased with his deductions. Whether it was his own genius or he simply didn't care anymore about his outburst he wasn't sure, but he merely shrugged instead of caring about the last statement. "Well, you are mine now. I don't go outside a lot. Unless I need to get something for an experiment." He sat up, climbed off the bed and moved over to John. "Do you like science? It is quite fascinating. I suppose as a slave they don't teach you things like that. It isn't your fault you are an idiot, nearly everyone is." He shrugged again, clearly not considering what he had just said an insult. "Come on! I'll show you my secret lab!" His inner child surfaced then, as he got excited over something he liked. He had never shared it with anyone before. It was in one of the secret passages the manor had. They weren't really used anymore, but he enjoyed them because he could seek solitude in them. He took John's hand without much thought, giving a small tug and then opening the door and going back down the stairs.  
  
John frowned when Sherlock said he didn't go outside a lot. His master was a big baby an he was gonna be cooped up in this house all the time. He sighed sadly and nodded his head as Sherlock said yet again that John was his. John didn't think he liked the reminder right now. He looked up when Sherlock mentioned science. He did know a little about science. His mum had taught him and some of the other slave children things out of a book at his old house. "I know about science," John said, sounding really offended. "And I can ever read," he said proudly, knowing that most slaves couldn't. He was pulled along suddenly to see Sherlock's secret lab. John was betting it was just a dumb clubhouse where Sherlock did things like mixed baking soda and vinegar. All the slave kids at his house knew what happened when you did that. But he didn't say any of that. "Okay, Sherlock." Was what he did say.  
  
Sherlock only half listened to John as he led them past the sitting room, down the hall, and finally to his father's den. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and pulled them both inside quickly. He shut the door behind them quietly and then moved over to the book case. He had to stand on his toes to reach the book, but when he pulled it down part of the book case moved. "Come on. In here quick. I'm not supposed to be in father's study and he'd kill me if he knew I had brought some slave in here." Once they were both in the corridor, he pulled the lever inside to close the passage. "The passage will light automatically while we walk. Its a bit of a walk. Stay close, you might get lost. There are a lot of turns in here and its easy to get lost. But I have the whole place memorized so we will be fine."  
  
If Sherlock's dad was going to kill him what would he do to John? Probably kick him out or resell him. Or make him do a really hard job until he croaked. At least that's what his dad has told him. John wondered if all free-people were this rude or if it was just Sherlock. It was hard to tell right now, figuring John hadn't spent a lot of time with free-people in his old home. Sherlock's mum had seemed nice though. She had even called darling, and that was nice. John walked into the corridor quickly and followed Sherlock like he said. They went down a lot of turns, but luckily the light always turned on before it got too dark. "How do you know about this?" John asked, sounding amazed.  
  
"I get bored easily," Sherlock explained simply but then he decided to go on. He enjoyed showing off how smart he was. "Father doesn't like me in his study, so when my parents went out to some social event I investigated. I saw the books and I was going to read one but then I noticed scratches on the floor. Obviously there was something that dragged on the floor boards. It didn't take long to figure out the bookcase must move. Most of the books aren't touched or if so rarely except for one was a little more worn. So, that must have been the lever. It was, naturally. I am almost never wrong about anything." He walked and talked without any problems, turning automatically when he needed to. "I explored everything I could. There are passages that open up, we will come out somewhere else. The study is the closest secret passage from my room though." Finally they arrived to his lab. Unlike his room, the place was a mess. Books and papers were strewn on the floor. There was a wooden table that had whole and broken beakers, a microscope and bunson burner. A single chair behind the table. A mini fridge was in one corner and he pointed to it. "I keep body parts in there. I get them from universities. People give their bodies to science when they die and I collect them. Well, not the whole bodies. Just bits and pieces in jars. I don't have room and the smell would be terrible..." He trailed off with shrug.  
  
John listened to Sherlock talk raptly. Sherlock was still a baby, but he seemed to be pretty smart. "That's amazing," he said, listening to how Sherlock had found the secret passages. "You could play spies or something down here." John said excitedly, thinking of all the places to hide and sneak up on people. They walked into the lab and John wondered if Sherlock had gotten everything in this room or if he had stolen some. Who was gonna give a kid John's age a hot plate. It wasn't safe. Or body parts John thought. He stared at the mini fridge, his eyes wide. "Can I see?"  
  
"You think so?" Most people didn't listen as he prattled on and on about whatever had captured his interest. But John had listened and seemed to actually care. Sherlock smiled. He was going to like this slave maybe but he scowled abut the mention of playing some sort of game. "I don't have time for games and neither do you." He moved over to the small fridge. "My brother goes to Uni, he gets me anything I want. Even body parts." Mycroft was the only person he was close to but when his brother moved out to go live closer to the university they had drifted apart a bit. He'd resented his older brother for leaving him all alone at the manor with their parents. He opened the door and pulled out a jar that was labeled: 'Male, 37, partial liver, cancer  
  
"I do," John said, looking around the room and thinking about how cool it was. He stopped when Sherlock talked again. No games? None at all? He had thought about not being allowed outside, but no games period? That was crazy. He couldn't do that he would go nuts. And Sherlock was little like him, of course he played games. What else could he do? John felt that pit in his stomach grow. He barely heard Sherlock talk about his brother and was only paying half attention when Sherlock pulled out the liver in a jar. "That's cool," John said, his mouth a bit dry. He waited for a moment and coughed politely like you were supposed to do before you said something that could be wrong. "Sherlock, why can't we play games?"  
  
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the question. He put the jar away, slamming the door shut. "Games are _boring_ and have no intellectual value. Why would I waste my time on such ridiculous activities? Besides, you are just a a slave. So you have to do what I say. So there." He nodded at his words. "We are leaving now. And you aren't to tell anyone about this place ever. If you do, you'll regret it." He moved out of the lab and began moving down the winding passages once more. He didn't care if John followed, maybe the stupid boy would get lost. It would serve the slave right. Questioning him like that. What right did that boy have?  
  
John just stood rigid as Sherlock yelled at him again and then told him to keep a bunch of secrets. He was being mean and rude again and John just didn't know how to deal with it. Sherlock's mum needed to show him how to use manners or someone was going to tell him off. It might as well be him, John thought. John clenched his fist and his teeth. He was on edge and really angry. His eyes narrowed too as he watched Sherlock walk into the corridor. John stomped off behind him. "Games aren't boring. You're boring!" he said, shouting out the last word "I wouldn't tell anyone about your dumb lab anyway. Its not that good anyway," he finished, crossing his arms.  
  
Sherlock stopped and spun around. "You just aren't smart enough to understand! You are just a stupid slave!" He wasn't used to being challenged like this, especially from a slave. He was used to getting his way, for well everything. He didn't know whether he should punch John or cry. He had never shown the lab to anyone and right now was just further proof no one understood him. His lip quivered for only a moment before he forced it still and clenched his jaw still. "You have to be nice to me! I'll tell my father on you!"  
"I'm not stupid! I'm really smart!" John yelled back, not being scared by Sherlock at all. His new master was just a big bully and a baby. His fist clenched tighter like he was ready to punch, but even now John knew that would be a bad thing. Yelling was one thing, but if a slave hit a free-person it could end really really badly. They might be sent away and not ever come back and they would definitely have to do hard work forever. It didn't stop John from yelling though. "Go ahead! You're supposed to be nice too!" He yelled, staring Sherlock right in the eye.  
  
"No I don't! I can do whatever I want!" For the briefest of moments he had thought he and John would be friends but that just showed how stupid he was sometimes, Sherlock supposed. He would never have any friends. He would just be alone forever. Perhaps being alone would protect him from feeling like this. "I'm leaving!" He turned his back to John, mainly so the slave wouldn't see the tears. He had just wanted to share his lab with someone and it had blown up in his face. He was never bringing John back down here ever again. Maybe he would have his parents just get rid of the slave. He sniffled, not realizing that he hadn't even actually gone anywhere yet.  
  
John frowned and wanted to scream because Sherlock was being so dumb. How was John supposed to be nice if Sherlock wasn't going to be nice! He wasn't making any sense at all. And then he shouted he was leaving (and John was going to follow him because he had to) but Sherlock didn't even go anywhere. He just turned his back to John and folded his arms. John waited a moment, to see if Sherlock was going to move, but he didn't. John wanted to sigh and push the free-boy down but then he heard the sniffling. John felt bad, he hadn't meant to make Sherlock cry. He just wanted Sherlock to be nice to him and maybe they could play some games. And then John would do all the good things he was supposed to do like make Sherlock's bed if he wanted or something. He wasn't really sure. He was suddenly much less angry and wanted Sherlock to stop crying. He walked up closer to Sherlock and put his arms around his shoulder's, giving him a little hug. "You don't have to cry. I'm sorry," he said. Maybe if he was a little nicer, Sherlock would return the favor.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock wasn't expecting the hug and it startled him. He pulled away. "Just...just leave me alone..." He still didn't move for several more minutes before turning slowly to look at John. "Do you really think I am boring? Mummy says I am too serious. Father doesn't really pay attention to me. And Mycroft left me." He just wanted a little attention and it seemed he only got it when he threw a childish fit. He was usually ignored when he talked about things that really interested him so he had just stopped trying at some point. He had found comfort in his books and experiments, because at least they didn't ignore him.

John frowned and prepared to yell more, but Sherlock didn't walk away. He just stood there and sniffled more. So John did as he was told and left Sherlock alone, standing still and rubbing his arm awkwardly. John shook his head at Sherlock's question. "No not really. Your experiments look interesting," he said honestly, wishing he had gotten a better look at the liver. He wished it had been a brain or some eyeballs though, that would have been cool. "But you can't just do experiments all the time. That's to much like school and would make you very serious," he said, thinking he sounded rather intelligent for saying it.

Briefly he brightened at John saying the experiments looked interesting but he quickly became crest fallen. "No one understands." Sherlock sighed and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "I like doing them. I don't really enjoy anything other than reading or figuring things out. Real puzzles, not that stupid stuff the telly shows." He shrugged again. "It is okay, everyone thinks of me like you do. I'm...used to it..." He had stopped crying at least but he sniffled a few more times. "I am going to get some tea," he muttered in order to change the subject and finally began walking down the passage.

John thought Sherlock was being sensitive. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Well you could try to play games with me." John followed Sherlock down the corridor. "And then I could help you with experiments." He thought that was a good compromise. He liked puzzles too, he thought so anyway. He hadn't gotten a lot of chances to do them before, but he liked seeing how smart he was. "And we could read too sometimes. We both like that." He walked a little faster so that he was right next to Sherlock. "Do you want me to make your tea?" He asked, not wanting Sherlock to think he wasn't useful.

Sherlock sighed. "I don't want to play any games. Just...do whatever you want. You can run off and join the circus for all I care." He was back to pouting again. He didn't like not getting his way and the word compromise didn't seem to be in his vocabulary at the moment. He shuffled along until they came to a wall. He pushed a button on the side of the wall and the dead end opened up in the wine cellar. He walked up the stairs to the kitchen, and out into the dining room where he sat down in chair. He would get tea at some point, whether it be because John actually made it or another slave did.

John frowned and walked faster to keep up with Sherlock who seemed to be going really quickly. "No I can't. I have to stay with you," John protested, wondering why Sherlock was pouting again. Maybe he was just a bad kid and John should give up now. They ended up in the wine cellar which John thought was pretty cool, but Sherlock was still walking fast and they didn't stay long. Sherlock sat at the table in the dining room and John stared at him for a long moment. He turned back into the kitchen and began to look around. He found and kettle and turned it on. Then he found the tea and got it ready. He walked back into the dining room while he waited. "You shouldn't pout to much." He pointed a finger at Sherlock. "And I don't know how you take your tea."

Sherlock watched John for moment. “For a slave you sure do make a lot of demands.” It wasn't a complaint really or even meant as demeaning. He was just thinking out loud and mulling a few things around. “Two sugars, please.” Maybe John not being a mindless drone doing everything he said wouldn't be so bad. It was definitely challenging. For them both it seemed. And he did like a challenge. “Sorry for being a prat earlier,” he muttered. It wasn't often he apologized. Usually it was because his parents made him from something or other. He didn't mean to be so thoughtless as much as he was, but he didn’t' feel like other people's feelings were his problem.

John bowed his head automatically as Sherlock stared at him. He was feeling a little less bold and remembered some of his manner's as Sherlock's slave. "Sorry?" John asked, not sure it that was a bad thing or not. He had just told Sherlock he should be happier, which was actually John's job. He was suppose to make Sherlock happy, so if Sherlock was pouting it meant John wasn't doing a very good job. Sherlock said how he took his tea, and John nodded. The kettle hadn't rang out yet, so John wanted to stay in here with Sherlock. He didn't think he was supposed to sit at the table, so he sat on his knees beside Sherlock's chair. He tilled his head up, surprised at Sherlock's apology. He smile and touched Sherlock's knee comfortingly. "You are forgiven."

Sherlock was not used the contact still but this time he didn't jerk away from it. He glanced down at John on the floor, scrutinizing his slave again. “What's it like being a slave? Do you like it? Do you want to be slave forever?” He had never heard of a slave earning freedom before, at least not within the Holmes household. It seemed to be a position one held no matter how old. He really didn't know much about slaves, as he paid little attention to most of them. But now that he had his own, he was curious. He still didn't know what to do with John either. Was John his to keep for the rest of his life?

John shrugged, his thumb drumming on Sherlock's leg as he thought. He didn't much think about not being a slave because he didn't know what else to think of. He didn't know what it was like to be a free-person. He knew that kids always listened to their parents but the adults didn't have to listen to anyone. John paused before he answered. "I don't hate it," he admitted. It really hadn't been so bad for far. If he hadn't been bought by the Holmes he would have grown up and worked outside his whole life, but now he was going to take care of Sherlock. "You have to remember to always do your chores or you'll get a whipping." He was proud he had never gotten a whipping. "And mum said slaves that do good jobs get 'special treatment' so I try to do a good job."

Sherlock supposed that made sense and he nodded a little. "I've never had my own slave before...." He knew Father always told the staff at the manner what to do, ordering them around to do this and that. Was that his job as the Master? Any sort of social structure was usually lost on him. He understood the basic concept of slavery of course, but John was proving to him that owning a slave was more than he realized and not just like having a dog or other pet. "Father says slaves aren't supposed to eat or drink at the table with us, but I only eat down here if there is an important family meal or function." He spent a lot of time in his room or his secret lab. "I will take the tea in my room, then you can have some too and neither of us can get in trouble for it." He was thinking out loud again. "Since you are supposed to do chores, you will bring my food to me to my room when it is made." He couldn't think of anything else at the moment to have his slave do.

John's eyes widen and he smiled brightly. He had been planning on having some tea in the kitchen by himself as Sherlock drank his in the dining room, but he would much rather get to drink with someone else. John patted Sherlock's leg again and put his hands in his lap like he was used to. "It is okay. I'm sure you'll figure it out." John said in regards to Sherlock having never owned a slave before. He probably had a lot to learn so he would order John on how to be a good personal slave. And this at least meant he could learn to be a bit nicer to John too. "And I can do that. Do you want me to eat in the kitchen or in your room?" he asked.

How come John kept touching him? Sherlock was distracted by the question and he thought about that for a moment. "You are supposed to stay in the same room with me, remember?" He frowned. Was he being rude again? No one had made him think about it before, so he was usually careless with his words. Had that been a bit not good? He cleared his throat and then thought something else so maybe it wouldn't sound so awful. "So, obviously you will be eating in the same room with me." A thoughtful pause. "Except when I have to eat with the family, you will have to eat with other slaves whenever they do I guess."

John nodded. "Alright, Sherlock." He had forgotten Sherlock had said that, but sometimes there were different rules for eating. And sleeping, but Sherlock said he would already make John sleep in his room, on the floor. John tried not to frown too hard at that right now. Sherlock was being nicer at this moment anyway. The kettle rang and John jumped up into the kitchen. He poured the water into their cups and made Sherlock's tea like he had requested. He carried both cups carefully into the dinning room, not wanting to spill any. "Ready?" He asked.

Sherlock nodded and got up. He led them back toward the stairs and up to his room easily. He knew every inch of the manor, despite its massive size. He sat down at the desk he had against one wall. He was so used to being alone in his room, he only had the single chair to sit at. Now that he had a slave, maybe he should get more furniture. At least another chair. Maybe another table. The room was certainly big enough to hold it. His books and other possessions took up most of the desk though.

John followed Sherlock, walking a little slower so he wouldn't spill anything. He put Sherlock's tea on his desk in front of him (it was hard to find a place though) and sat on the floor beside Sherlock's chair. He blew on his tea and sipped it slowly. It was a lot better than the tea they had to drink at his old house, but he assumed it was because this was the tea the free-people in the house drank. "Thank you," he said, taking another sip. "It's your birthday right? How old did you turn?"

Sherlock took a sip of the tea. It tasted perfect. "It is good," he commented and then continued to drink it. "I'm a decade." He didn't care about his birthday but he was glad be older. When he was of age, he planned on moving out and living on his own. "I usually get a lot of toys, but I don't have any need for those. I think that is why my parents got me you this year. You said you like playing games. Do you want my toys? I don't have any need for them. I think they are in storage somewhere around the manor."

A decade? That was ten years right? Which meant that he was one year older than Sherlock give or take a few months. "I don't want to play with toys by myself." John couldn't help but wonder what kind of toys Sherlock had. They were probably really amazing and expensive toys too. He started to buzz a little with excitement. "Maybe that is your problem is you don't play with others." He took another sip and paused looking up at Sherlock. "So it that what I am? Am I like a toy?"

Sherlock frowned at that but then shrugged. “Maybe.” He had never really had much interest or use for toys. “Is that what most kids do? Play with others and toys?” For awhile he had gone to a private school but his parents had pulled him out and ended up getting him a private tutor. He hadn't gotten along well with other children but the kids were mean and called him names like 'freak.' He was lost in thought and almost missed the questions. “What? Oh...I...don't know... I don't think so...”

John nodded. "Yep. And sometimes you don't even need toys. You can just play things like soldiers or pirates." John thought Sherlock would be good at those games. He probably knew a lot about those kinds of things since he read so much. He sipped his tea again, tugging his legs closer in on himself. "If you were a pirate, you could be rude whenever you want because pirates are mean. And I could be your first mate." John closed his eyes and laid his head against the arm of the chair. "I'm glad. I don't think I want to be a toy." Toys got broken and could be forgotten about easily.

Sherlock frowned a bit. “It sounds like a waste of time to me. What practical use does it have?” But...being a pirate sounded like it could be fun. He turned slighting in his chair to look at John, the mug of tea still in his hands. He sipped at now and again. “I don't think people would make good toys. Paws maybe but not toys.” Chess! That was a game, though he rarely found people to play with him. He won a lot and if he didn't, he tended to be sore loser about it. “Do you play chess?”

"It's fun." John said with a shrug as if that was all that mattered. He had already decided he was going to teach Sherlock how to play. John was a sweet tempered boy most of the time, but he was also stubborn as can be. He finished his tea and put this cup on the desk, looking up at Sherlock as he talked. "That's good I think." He wasn't actually sure what a pawn was to be honest. Sherlock asked if he played chess and John actually nodded. "Yes, but I'm not very good." Slaves often couldn't have a lot of toys, but there was always at least one cheap chess set everyone played with.

“I think we have two very different ideas of what fun is.” Sherlock didn't think playing games sounded very fun, but then he had never really tried either. He was too busy trying to learn everything he could from books. He finished his tea and put the empty mug on the desk next to John's. “I can teach you how to be good. Playing against someone I can beat in three moves isn't much of challenge and would be boring. I _hate_ being bored.” He got up from his chair and went to his walk-in closet. He pulled the string above his head and the light turned on. He pulled out a big box carefully with a slight 'oomph' because it was a little too heavy for him and too big for his thin and wiry frame. The board and pieces were made of white and black granite. He liked the grimy texture the granite offered. 

"You are gonna teach me?" John couldn't help but sound a little skeptical. Sherlock was younger than him; he couldn't be very good either. "And you can't beat someone in three moves that's impossible!" John protested as Sherlock pulled the box out of the closet. He got up and looked over Sherlock's shoulder. It was a lot nicer than the set John had learned with and you could actually tell all the pieces apart. They used to get in fights at home over which piece was which. He grabbed the board and laid it on the floor, and then grabbed some pieces so he could set them up. "If I play chess, will you play pirates?"

“Well, fine. Three moves is impossible, but it can be done in two moves. It is called Fool's Mate and in four called Scholar's Mate. It is difficult to do, but if you are able to predict what your opponent will do you can make moves on the board that will force them to do what you want. Chess is more about psychology than strategy.” Sherlock gave a slight shrug and helped set up the board. He bit his lip at the question. He sighed in resignation. “Yeah...I guess...”

John didn't believe that Sherlock could really beat someone in two moves. That was impossible. No one could be stupid enough to be checkmated in two moves. Or be dumb enough to let it happen. But he shrugged it off because Sherlock said he would play with him if he did this. He sat down crisscross in front of the board and set up his pieces. He choose the black ones because he figured Sherlock would want to go first. "You are gonna like it I promise." John said.

Sherlock was busy staring at the board in thought, as he tried to decide on his first move. His fingers trailed over a few pieces before they finally stilled and he decided on a pretty basic opening move, and moved the pawn in front of his king two spaces forward. It would allow his other pieces more mobility. “Don't copy this move, I will just be able to exploit it to my advantage. If you move your pawn up to mine, I'll move my knight and take it after your next turn. This is supposed to lure the queen out. But you don't want to move the queen out too early in the game,” he explained and pointed at each piece he was talking about.

John's eyes widened and his jaw dropped a little as Sherlock rambled on. He had been about to copy Sherlock's move. It was how he always started his games. It was just a basic move to get the game going. He swallowed an put a different pawn forward than he would have normally done. "You are really good at this aren't you?"

Sherlock smirked smugly at the look on John's face. He scrutinized the board after his slave moved a different pawn, the very tip of tongue sticking out from his pursed lips. It was clear he was contemplating his next move quite seriously. Even though he was teaching John how to play he was still determined to win. He moved another pawn, the one in front of the king. He planned on castling his king as soon as possible and he already had the next few moves planned out, but he might change his mind depending on what John did. “Of course I am. I am the best in the manor. Well, except for Father....I've...never beat him...” He didn't play with his father often though, his father was always busy with something. “Anyway, what I am trying to do is called castling. It is when you move your pieces so that eventually you can move your king next to the rook.” He pointed to the pieces at the end of the boards that looked like small castle towers.

Sherlock spent too much time picking which piece to move next. John usually just moved some pawns around until he was able to take someones piece. That was his favorite part because it made him feel like he was winning. "Castling?" John said asked. He looked down at his board, trying to figure out what Sherlock had said. He picked up his knight and moved it so he could take out one of Sherlock's pawns with his next turn. He would at least get a couple pieces before Sherlock beat him. "Why do you want your king next to your rook?" John asked.

Sherlock frowned and sighed. Trying to explain chess strategy to John was harder than he thought it would be. How come the other boy didn't understand it like he did? He thought about telling the slave he was stupid but that had resulted them yelling at each other last time and wanted to at least finish the game. Another sigh. "It helps protect your king,  _obviously,_ " he stated as if everyone should know that. “Here...watch...” He let the game play out without further instruction. 

"Oh." John still didn't quite understanding. All the pieces were supposed to protect your king, so why was the rook so important? He tried to learn a few tricks during the game, but Sherlock still managed to beat him easily. He didn't mind though, he was used to losing at chess and Sherlock seemed like the type who would be upset if he lost. "I think I understand it a little better now." He looked down at the defeated board. The rook had made it harder for John to even think of a way to get Sherlock's king. He looked up at Sherlock now with a bit of a smile, full of anticipation.

“Checkmate!” Sherlock knocked over John's king. The excitement faded when he realized he had agreed to playing pirates after the game of chess. It wasn't something he looked forward to. He didn't even know how to go about playing. They didn't even have a ship to be pirates on! What was the point of playing? But he had promised and his parents said it was important to keep promises, even if he didn't understand why.

John stood up and grabbed the box that the chess pieces had come out of. He put the board and in first, and then the chess pieces. He knew it was his job to clean up, so hopefully Sherlock would see that he was good at that. He put the lid on and stood up. He smiled down at Sherlock and offered his hand. "Don't look so glum, Sherlock." John waited to help pull him to his feet. "I wouldn't make my owner do something boring, that might get me in trouble." John gave a big smile.

Sherlock watched John put the set away. He always forgot to put his stuff away but it wasn't like it mattered. The slaves always picked up after him. That was what his slave was for now he supposed. He took John's hand and stood up. “I'll be the judge of that,” he muttered. “So...what are we supposed to do anyway?” He wasn't used to asking the question. He was always the most clever person in the room and now he wasn't. It made him a bit uncomfortable.

John started to walk towards the door, still holding Sherlock's hand and attempting to pull him along. "Haven't you read about pirates in one of your books?" John thought this through carefully. What kind of kid didn't know how to play pirates? "You have to sail a ship and look for treasure. And you have to steal the treasure or you're not really a pirate." At his old home they would either steal imaginary treasure or they would steal sweets form the kitchen. John had gotten a spanking on his butt once for doing that, but it had been worth it in a way. "And you have to talk like a pirate. You will be captain Holmes, and I'll be first mate Watson. Or we call each other matey."

Sherlock blinked as John spoke, following after his slave automatically. “I prefer non fiction books. Science, history, that sort of thing. You know, things that I can learn from.” He sighed. “John, we don't have a ship or treasure to steal. How are we supposed to do any of that?” He truly felt lost and confused. The captain and first mate thing made sense at least. “Even if we did have a ship, there isn't a water to sail on near the manor. We have a pond in the garden, that is too small to go sailing in.”

"Pirates were a real thing! In history in everything." John sounded excited by the idea. Sherlock started to complain about how they didn't have any of that stuff and John stopped dead in his tracks. How could someone be so dumb? "Of course we don't have those things!" He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You have to pretend." He frowned and thought for a moment trying to think of something. "There's always treasure around though. C'mon captain. Maybe a treat in the kitchen we can steal. Or something that you're not suppose to have because were small but you want to have anyway."

Sherlock frowned. “I don't understand....why are we pretending to have things we don't?” This game was more complicated than he realized. He had always had tangible things. Using his imagination to do well, anything, had never occurred to him. “Okay...matey,” he mumbled. Was he doing this right? He felt ridiculous but continued to follow after John anyway.

"Because its fun," John reminded him. They had made it downstairs and John turned around a wall and turned around to face Sherlock. "So what treasure are we gonna steal captain?" He asked. "Does your brother have any booty, or maybe we can steal some snacks from the kitchen and take them on our boat outside." He rubbed his hands together like he was a greedy pirate, or at least that's what he thought he was doing.

Hopefully John was having fun because so far he wasn't. Sherlock was just feeling lost and confused for the most part. “Mycroft keeps his door locked when he is away at Uni but I know how to pick it open. He just has a bunch of boring stuff though... The kitchen might have snacks we can take, I guess.” He wasn't sure why pirates would want to steal food, but John was the expert in the game so who was he to argue?

John frowned. Why wasn't Sherlock excited? Didn't he want to steal sweets and find treasure? "Well we don't have to steal treasure right now. We can do other things captain." John gave a soft smile. He looked around, trying to remember the door he had come through before. They needed to go outside so they could find a proper ship. "Let's go sailing on the open seas!" He was trying to get Sherlock excited.

Sherlock was about to argue they couldn't go sailing again but then he remembered they were supposed to be pretending. Although he still didn't see the point behind it other than it was supposedly fun. Maybe they could find something suitable in the garden for a ship. "Okay," he relented but obviously didn't share the enthusiasm John had. He led them out to the back, through the ground floor patio. He found the the stone path to the garden easily and began following it.

John walked right through the garden. There was nothing in there they could use as a ship. Everything was too pretty and well made. Nice and organized. Nothing to climb on except some rocks, and they looked to nice to ruin with muddy feet. They left the garden and John walked toward the tree line of the forest behind the Holmes's estate. There was a knocked over tree the John climbed on it. "Where are we going to sail to captain?" John asked, smiled from on the tree. Then he said in a smaller voice. "I know you must have read about places to go!"

Sherlock decided he wasn't any good at this pretend thing but kept following John anyway. He eyed the fallen tree, it didn't look a ship to him but decided to climb up anyway. “Of course I have!” He replied with a bit of indignation. Despite growing up rich and privileged he had never been outside of London. Where could they go? “What about the Americas? It is said to be a long and dangerous voyage.” Was he doing this right? He felt like an idiot but kept going. “I'm sure we will find all kinds of treasures on the way there.”

"Yes, Captain!" John said, pretending to raise some sails on their log ship. "We can raid American ships as we pass and steal their gold." John jumped off the ship and ran into the woods really quickly. He came running back with two sticks in his hand. He handed the shorter one to Sherlock. "We're gonna need these if we want to take over any ships." He gave his a few short swings. "Do you want to practice?"

Right then. Maybe he was getting better at this. Sherlock watched John run off and wondered if was supposed to follow but his slave came back quickly enough. He took the stick and looked at it curiously and a bit of confusion. Oh. He figured this one out on his own and was rather pleased. “En garde!” He took a defensive stance, stick raised to the air slightly.

"En garde," John repeated, holding up his own sword and bringing it down to hit against Sherlock's. He had a jabbing motion, but didn't get close enough to actually hit Sherlock. That wasn't the point of play sword fighting, unless things got a little heated or if someone was angry. John didn't think he would ever do that with Sherlock though; slaves couldn't do that with free people. "Take that scurvy dog!" John yelled, bringing his stick down in a long swipe.

Sherlock blocked easily. Before Mycroft had left for Uni, he had done a little fencing with his older brother. It had been done in secret though, because his parents thought he was too young to be swinging around a sword. “If you quit swinging so wildly, it will be harder for me to read your movements and you can get a hit in.”

John laughed when Sherlock blocked his hit. His sword fell back and he swung again, stepping backwards on the log. He kept his sword up but his face turned kind of puzzled at Sherlock's advice. "Do you want to play with hits?" John asked, not sounding very sure. "I don't want to get in trouble if you get hurt."

Oh. Right. John did have a point. Slaves weren't supposed to strike their masters. Sherlock hesitated. “Yeah...okay maybe not.” He didn't care about getting hit, but his parents might. He was starting to like John and he didn't want the other boy to get in trouble because of him. He swung his stick at John's for a bit. “You've been a slave forever, right? Do slaves and masters become friends? I've...never had a friend before...”

John smiled once Sherlock understood and continued swinging his sword wildly, having more fun that he had had in a while. He dropped his arm to the side though when Sherlock stopped. John thought about his question and shrugged. "I don't know." He plopped down and sat on the side of their 'ship,' his feet barely touching the floor. "I've never talked to a free-person before today. My mum and dad told me what to do so I never saw the master of the house."

Sherlock sat down next to John and was quiet a long while. “Will...you be my friend? You are the only boy my age who has never called me a freak,” he admitted quietly. He swung his feet a bit, as he stared at the ground. He was feeling a bit embarrassed at the question and he couldn't bring himself to look at John at the moment.

John nodded his head quickly. "Yeah, I'll be your friend." John said quickly. He was happy to do so. He wasn't thinking about it now, but he knew that by tonight he was going to miss his family and friends. They had told him this morning that they would probably never see him again, and for him to be good and do as he was told. And Sherlock had been a baby at first but he was better now. "Why would they do that?" he asked.

Sherlock looked up at John and smiled but it quickly disappeared at the question. He threw the stick in his hand away angrily. “They are just jealous of how smart I am!” He crossed his arms over his chest, lips puckered out in a pout. “I don't want to play anymore,” he muttered and got up off the log and began making his way back to the manor.


	3. Chapter 3

John gripped his stick tighter as Sherlock threw his away. What was wrong with him? So what if he was smart? He didn't really care. He thought it was cool how good Sherlock was at chess, but other than that he couldn't be bothered. His master stomped away again and John gave an exaggerated exasperated sigh. He was such a baby! "But we were having fun!" He threw down his own stick and  ran after him.

Sherlock paused and glanced over his shoulder at John. “It was fun,” he admitted. He had never had fun playing a game before. Maybe things like that weren't as boring and stupid as he thought they first were. “We can play again tomorrow. I...don't feel like it anymore...” He shrugged a little and then continued walking back to the manor.

John brightened a little, happy that Sherlock had had fun. The boy was good at playing pirates once they had gotten on the ship. And he had been even better at sword fighting. He ran to catch up to Sherlock and walk beside him. "That's okay. As long as we can play more tomorrow." He walked with his hands behind his back. "Are you not feeling good?"

Sherlock decided to just brush off the question. “I am fine. I just...its nothing...” He was finding that emotions were pretty useless and trying to learn to control them and not have them anymore. As far as he could tell, emotions got in the way thinking clearly and if he was going to be the smartest person ever, he couldn't let anything get in the way of it.

John didn't believe it, but he didn't think it was his place to pry. Even if he and Sherlock were friends now. "Okay, Sherlock." He sounded a little deflated. They walked back through the garden. They're were lots of rocks and chairs and large bushes that they could play in. John thought it would be a good place to play spies. Maybe he could show that to Sherlock next. "What are you gonna do now?" He felt kind of hungry and wondered when they were going to be able to eat.

“I am just going to sit in my room and think. I do that a lot.” Sherlock gave a slight shrug, frowned in thought and then looked over to John. “What do kids normally do besides play games for fun?” He was finding himself curious about it now, instead of just dismissing it as stupid and boring. Maybe there were other things his new friend could show him that were fun.

"Um that's mostly it." Well he ate and sleep, but free-people did that too. "The rest of the time I had to do chores, but you don't do those." John smiled a little, as if the idea was silly. Free-people didn't do chores, that's why they had slaves like him. "Oh and sometimes mum would teach me how to read if she wasn't too tired. I'm not very good at reading, but I was learning fast." John smiled and the stopped. Mum wouldn't be able to teach him how to read anymore. He knew all his letters, but he didn't think he would get to practice. Or learn how to do sums better. That was kind of sad.

Sherlock frowned as he looked over to John. His new friend looked sad. “I can teach you read. I am good at it!” He smiled proudly at that. When they got into the manor he was informed there would be a birthday dinner for him in the dinning hall. Did that mean John couldn't come? “I don't think my parents will let you dine with us, but I will sneak you some cake when I am excused from the table.”

"You are?" John said, his voice going a little high with excitement. That could be fun. And something else he could do with his new friend when Sherlock didn't feel like playing. "Thank you, Sherlock." He said as they walked into the manor. John listened to the older slave tell his master he had to go to dinner. "Oh." It was clear he felt a little dejected. Sherlock was the only person he knew in the house and he didn't want to leave him just yet. "Where do I go?" He asked. He wanted to add _for dinner_ but he wasn't sure when he was gonna get to eat. Sometimes the slaves didn't eat till late at his old house.

Sherlock smiled a bit, glad to see John happy again. He had never really cared what anyone else thought or felt but he found himself caring about his new friend. Was that what having friend meant? “There is a place slaves eat. It is down at the other end of the hall.” He didn't want part ways with John, but bringing the slave with him could get them both in trouble.

"Oh thank you." John smiled, happy he was going to get to eat. He was starving and he was really looking forward to having some cake after wards. If Sherlock was able to steal some away. John didn't get sweets often, usually only when they managed to steal some from the kitchen, and he had never had cake before. But it always smelled so good the few times they had had to make it in the kitchen. Usually when the master was having a party of some sort. "I will just wait for you there?" he asked.

“Okay!” Sherlock went to the dinning hall to join his parents for dinner. Usually he picked at his food but today he ate a little quicker than usual. He was enjoying John's company and wanted to meet up with his friend again. His parents asked him how he was liking the slave and were surprised when he replied positively about it. “Can I eat cake in my room? ….Please?” He gave his best, cute smile that sometimes worked on his parents. He practically ran to his room, a plate with two slices of cake on it. He had talked the servant into it, since he was the birthday boy he should get two pieces. Would John be inside his room yet? He had forgotten he said he would John downstairs in his excitement.

John waved as Sherlock dashed inside the dining room. He walked down the hall and peaked his head inside the kitchen where Sherlock said he would eat. An elderly women called him over and gave him a place to sit at a table where a few other slaves were sitting. They were all adults, but they ruffled his hair and were generally nice to him. The older woman's name was Mrs. Hudson and she gave him a big plate of food and told him to eat up. He finished almost all of it, because the food here was better than it was at his old home.

When he was done he sat outside the kitchen door and waited for Sherlock. He had been waiting nearly ten minutes when a slave girl came out. She had been serving dinner and said little master Sherlock had already gone upstairs to his room and would probably wait for him there. "Can you show me which way to go?" John asked, not sure if he could find his way in the big house. The older girl nodded and took his hand, showing him the way.

Sherlock frowned when he didn't find John in his room. Maybe his friend was still eating? Oh. Right. He had been so excited about sharing cake, he'd forgotten he was supposed to meet John downstairs. He was about to go look when another slave had brought John up. “I got it!” He grinned and once John was inside he closed the door, so no one could see. “Its chocolate, my favorite.”

John didn't have time to thank the girl slave when Sherlock shut the door on her. He wanted to tell Sherlock that was rude, but he also wanted cake. And he could always apologize to the girl the next day. "I have never had it!" He hadn't specified whether he meant cake or chocolate cake. He had had chocolate before though. He had taken some of the baking chocolate that they had been using for a chocolate sauce. It had been kind of bitter but still really good. "Are you sure I can have some?"

Sherlock looked at John with wide eyes, clearly surprised by the statement. He thought everyone had eaten chocolate cake! “Its my birthday and my cake! So, it should be fine! Since I said so.” He nodded at that, as if that was the most logical thing in the world. He sat down on the floor. There was only one plate and fork. “You go first. You have to try it!”

John nodded, trusting Sherlock completely. If he just listened to his master there was no way he would get into trouble. He was surprised when Sherlock offered him the first bite though. But the cake smelled really good and he wasn't going to refused it. He took the fork and got a not so big bite. He made sure to get some of the cake that had the creamy stuff on it (he thought it was called frosting or something but he wasn't sure). He took his bite and almost choked at how sweet it was. He didn't get to eat sweet things often and it surprised him. But he chewed and realized it was really really good. He went to get another bite and then realized he probably shouldn't eat it all. He put the fork down and swallowed. "Thank you." he said.

Sherlock grinned. “Told you it was good!” He picked up the fork and he ate his slice of cake. “The other one is for you.” He pushed the plate a bit closer. He stood up and went to his book shelf. “What do you want to learn to read from?” All of his books were non fiction, so he wasn't sure John would actually like any of them.

John watched with jealously as Sherlock ate a whole piece of cake. He wanted to steal the fork and take a few more bites, but he waited patiently. Sherlock finished his piece and left the rest for John. He was gonna get a whole piece! He bounced excitedly while he ate the caked, some of the frosting getting on his cheeks. He didn't notice and when he was done he followed Sherlock over to the bookshelf. "My mum taught me out of one on history." He looked at the spines of the books and trying to read them. "We didn't have any story books. Mum and dad just tells those from memory."

Sherlock picked a history book. “Okay.” He turned to look at John and laughed when he saw the frosting on his friend's face. “You made a bit of a mess.” He laughed some more and then reached out to wipe the frosting off John's face but ended up smearing it a little more. “Oops. Maybe we should go to the wash room.”

John looked down at Sherlock's hand and saw it was covered in frosting now. He touched his own face and came away with frosting too. He laughed nervously, but managed to not be so worried since Sherlock was laughing too. "I'm sorry. It was good and I ate it really fast." He didn't want Sherlock to think he was always this messy. "Where is it?" He looked around to see if Sherlock had one in his bedroom. Lots of free-people apparently did.

Sherlock pointed at the door. “Just across the hall. It is my own personal one, but you can use it too since we are friends now.” There was a stool in there and everything, so he could reach things that were on the shelf and see in the mirror. He placed the book on the desk and then led them out of the room. He was going to need to wash his hands too.

"Thank you, Sherlock." John walked across the hall, holding his contaminated hand out so he wouldn't get chocolate on anything. He washed the sticky stuff off his hands and then cleaned his face in the mirror. It was a nice bathroom and he had cleaned one like it before at the old house the few times he'd had that job. "What kind of history book do you have?" John asked.

Sherlock washed his hands after John was done. “All kinds! War books, books about the Americas, London history.” He was clearly enthusiastic about sharing his books with his friend. No one had been interested in them before. It was his chance to show them off. He moved back into his room and picked the book up he'd held before. He climbed up on his big bed and patted the spot next to him for John to join him.

"I think I would like war books." John thought about how much he liked playing soldiers. He knew the army was the one place where free-people who wanted to serve and slaves who had no where else to go fought together on equal terms for their country. It sounded really cool and brave to John. He hopped up on the bed next to Sherlock, now worrying about whether he should be kneeling like a slave or showing Sherlock some respect in anyway. Right now he just was excited to learn about great battles and anything else Sherlock might know. "My grandad was a soldier," he said proudly.

Sherlock smirked. “Good, because that was the book I picked.” He opened it up. “This one is all about world war one.” He shrugged a little. “Why would anyone join the military? It seems stupid to me. You could get killed or injured really bad. Or end up disfigured and ugly and no one would want to talk to you ever again.”

John frowned and tried not to get too angry. He thought Sherlock liked war stories, why did he think being a soldier was stupid? "It's not stupid. Being a soldier means you get to protect people." John insisted, trying to think about how better to explain it. "He saved a bunch of people, got a medal, and even became a free-man." John said with a lot of pride. This was before he had been born. When his granddad had gotten out of the war he had been able to get John's grandma free, but not his dad. His dad was already eighteen and declared separate property. That was okay because he met John's mum when he was resold and they still got to live together now.

Sherlock shrugged again, apparently not interested in John's story or heritage. “I like the strategy in war. See what commanders did that they could have done different to make the war have a different outcome and more efficient use of soldiers. I don't see the point in being a hero. Heroes are more likely to die and shouldn't their concern be survival?”

"Sometimes other people are more important," John pointed out. He looked over Sherlock and down at the book to see if he could pick out any words. He saw army, and general and war. He knew all of those words and could definitely sound out the rest if Sherlock let him. "Don't you have anyone important you would save if you had too?" John asked, thinking about his mum and his sister. He thought he might even be able to think about Sherlock one day if he was a good of a master as he seemed.

Sherlock thought for moment. “Mycroft...maybe...he's been kind of a prat lately though.” He frowned at that. He missed having his older brother around but now he had John and he didn't need Mycroft anymore. “Mum and father can protect themselves, they are adults.” He gave a small shrug. He had never thought about anyone he would protect before. Was this another thing kids did that he didn't understand?

"I suppose your right." John shrugged, glad Sherlock had been able to think of one person. "My sister is kind of a prat too." He giggled, bringing his hands to his mouth. He was going to miss her, but he had Sherlock now so he would be okay. He tried to fight it but ended up yawning, stretching his arms out a little but decided he wasn't going to go to sleep now. He didn't even know where he was going to sleep! "What's that word?" He leaned over and pointed at 'auxiliary' that was next to the word forces.

Sherlock glanced down at the book. “Auxiliary. It means giving support. In this contexts it is talking about a group of soldiers supporting another.” He had noticed the yawn but he wasn't tired. He liked staying up late. “I was thinking...since we are friends now...you could sleep up here with me. I have a really big bed and friends don't let friends sleep on the floor....do they?” His eyebrows creased together in thought.

John listened to Sherlock and decided that made sense. The book had said earlier the army needed more support. Of course he didn't understand why they just couldn't have said support forces. That would still make sense. His mouth opened and closed and he thought very carefully about Sherlock's question. He knew some people shared beds. Older teenagers who were friends would. But they were almost always a boy and a girl, not two of one. And then his mum and dad slept together and it was the same. But he didn't want to hurt Sherlock's feelings and he really didn't want to sleep on the floor. "They don't," he agreed. He put an arm around Sherlock and squeezed him tight. "Thank you. I promise not to kick you.”

Sherlock blinked. He hadn't been expecting that but he grinned at the last bit John said. “I'll try not to steal the blankets.” He cleared his throat, feeling a bit embarrassed but decided to share the story anyway. “When I was younger, sometimes I would sleep with Mycroft because of nightmares. He told me I would take all the blankets.”

John couldn't help but giggle. "I used to climb in bed with my parents." John was getting more sleepy and leaning into Sherlock. "It was after some teenagers had tried to escape." He yawned mid thought. "And they all had to get whipped as punishments. I was scared they were gonna get me next." He laughed as if this was a funny thing. And it was. He knew better now. No one would hit him unless he did something wrong. And he wasn't going to do that. "If you steal them, I will just pull them back anyway."

Sherlock felt a little better, knowing he wasn't the only one who had sought comfort in the bed of another. He glanced over at John as his friend leaned against him. Sometimes he had snuggled against his brother if the dream had been particularly scary. He decided he liked the contact though and he leaned back as well.

John yawned again, his eyes closing a little as Sherlock leaned into him. The boy was small and skinny and surprisingly warm. He shifted a little and toed off his shoes, letting them fall to the floor. "I don't have pajamas." He was a little worried and a lot tired. He'd had a very long car ride today and then a lot of excitement in the afternoon. "They didn't let me bring my clothes." He had been a bit sad about that but tried not to let it be heard.  
“Well, that's stupid. Why weren't you allowed to bring your clothes?” Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed together in thought. “I don't think my clothes would fit you. I will have one of the servants sew you some clothes. Or maybe I can talk my parents into taking us shopping tomorrow....but shopping for clothes is so boring...” He sighed at that thought.

"They said my clothes were too dirty for your nice house." John looked down at the new clothes he had been given. He could sleep in them tonight he supposed. They were just black slacks and a nice button down shirt. He had gotten a little bit of dirt on them playing, but they were still pretty nice looking. "You don't have to go shopping." John didn't want Sherlock to do anything he didn't like. "I can wear these until you can figure something out." He was used to wearing the same thing a few days in a row if he had too. He yawned again.

“Still sounds stupid,” Sherlock muttered, more to himself though. Adults didn't make sense to him sometimes. “Okay. I usually just wear my robe, all day. It is much more comfortable than wearing clothes.” He closed his eyes, but he wasn't sleeping. “Hey John...thanks for being my friend. I like being friends with you.”

"It does, doesn't it." John laughed a little. He wanted to lay back and fall asleep now, but he didn't know if he needed Sherlock's permission or not. Also they were talking and that was kind of nice. "I like being your friend too, Sherlock." He reached up and rubbed his eyes with his first. "I promise to be helpful and do a good job, okay?" He had remembered how important his mum had said it was he try to be good for his new master.

John's yawning must have been contagious, because Sherlock finally yawned too. He stretched a bit and turned to the lamp beside him. He switched it off. “Okay. I will try to be a good master because I like you. You are the first present my parents got me that I have liked.” Even though it was dark now, he turned a bit so he could face John, and curled a bit more into his friend, his head coming to rest on John's shoulder.

"Thank you, Sherlock." John put his head on top of Sherlock's. He put his arm around Sherlock so that they were almost hugging but not quite. He hadn't held anyone like this ever. It was always his mum that held him close, but he found he didn't mind holding Sherlock like this. "We should lay down." he said, looking at the lamp Sherlock had just switched off. He was glad he wasn't the only one who was tired after the long day.

“Okay,” Sherlock agreed. He closed the book on his lap and dropped it to the ground gently. He stretched out again before laying down in the bed. He made sure John was ready too before pulling the covers up over both of them. He resumed snuggling with his friend. “Good night John.” His eyes closed once more, his breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep.

John waited for Sherlock to settle in the bed. It was incredibly soft. Much nicer than the beds at home and he would swear that the pillows were actually made of clouds. Sherlock snuggled close to him and he threw his arm back around him, wanting Sherlock to be comfortable and not scared if he woke up in the middle of the night or something. "Good night, Sherlock." He fell asleep shortly after.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock slept soundly next to John. It might have even been the best sleep he had ever gotten. He woke to the noise of someone knocking on the door. He groaned. His parents never let him sleep in. It was probably time for breakfast. “I'm up,” he muttered at the door even though it probably wouldn't be heard so he leaned a bit off the bed and threw a shoe at the door.

John heard the clang of the shoe hitting the door and his eyes opened. He pulled his hand the rest of the way off Sherlock, not quite remembering where he was at first. Then he remembered he had been sold and now belonged to Sherlock. He was sad and then remembered it wasn't so bad as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The door opened and a slave entered the room. The slave's mouth fell open a little and John waved at them with his huge boyish smile. She told Sherlock that his breakfast would be ready soon, and then she lingered as if she wanted to say something else.

Sherlock grumbled when the girl came in. He just wanted to go back to sleep. Why was she still standing there? “Don't you have someone else to bother?” He sighed because he knew he would never fall back asleep at this rate. He sat up but didn't get out of the bed. He had spent the hole day in his robe yesterday. He should probably wash up before going down to eat, but that would require moving.

The slave girl scuttled off and John yawned. His smile was big and he faced Sherlock. His master's curly hair stuck up in all directions and looked like a mess. John started laughing and couldn't stop. He fell back into the bed and giggled. It wasn't that funny, but he was still a bit tired from sleep and that made everything even funnier. He covered his face and tried to make himself stop. He patted down his own hair, which was really short like most slave's hair. "I'm sorry, you just look really funny."

Sherlock glanced around the room sleepily, trying to figure out what John was laughing out. Oh. Why was his friend laughing at him? He didn't like being laughed at. “Stop it!” He hid under the covers, to hide himself and pout. He was still tired and it made him a bit more grumpy than usual but maybe John would stop if he couldn't see him anymore.

John stopped laughing a few seconds after Sherlock hid himself under the sheets. "C'mon Sherlock." He pushed the lump that was under the blanket. "It was just a joke." He gave a shrug, hoping Sherlock came out of soon. They might get in trouble if Sherlock didn't get to breakfast soon. "It will look less silly after you've showered."

Sherlock peeked his head out. “I don't like being laughed at,” he mumbled as he got out of the bed. “Get my food for me while I shower. I won't have to eat downstairs, Mum and Father probably already ate. Then when I'm done, you can take a shower if you want. If you get extra food, you can eat up here with me.” He was trying to be a good master by giving his slave chores to do.

"Yes, si-Sherlock." John said, correcting himself. It was hard not to respond to an order with sir. He even called his dad sir when he used to work with him. He dusted off his clothes and patted them down the best he could, hoping he would get new ones later. "I will be back soon." He ran out the door without waiting to be dismissed. He hoped he would be able to get two plates.

Sherlock figured he should probably wear clothes today. He went to his closest and took out some posh clothes. Fine black trousers and a purple button up shirt. He retreated to the bathroom, disrobed and made sure the water was hot before getting in the shower. After about fifteen minutes he got out, redressed and went back into his room.

John waited patiently in the kitchen while Mrs. Hudson made the plates he needed. She had given in, and eyed John when he said Sherlock wanted two plates, but she didn't argue any further pass that. She gave John all the food he needed on a tray along with two glasses of orange juice. She showed him how to put in on the dumbwaiter and how he could pull it up to himself once he was on the second floor so he didn't have to carry it all those steps. He thanked her and ran upstairs. He grabbed the food and kicked open Sherlock's door with his foot. "I got it!" He yelled triumphantly.

Sherlock turned and grinned. He was already feeling restricted in his clothes, so he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. He decided to eat on the floor, like they had last night when eating cake instead of at the desk. That way he could eat with John. Even though he didn't like shopping, he figured they should probably go. John needed clothes and he wanted a table they could both use in his room. “Thank you,” he said around a mouthful of food.

"You're welcome." John sat on the other side of the tray in front of Sherlock. He eagerly dug into his food, which there was so much of! He got eggs and toast! And she even put some jam on his after asking if he liked it. He took a big bite and smiled, before happily chugging down his orange juice. "I think I should teach you to play spies today." He was still thinking about the places in the gardens. "Or you can call is es-i-o-nag," he said, pronouncing espionage wrong.

Sherlock frowned. “Espionage?” He asked. “Is it fun like pirates?” He ate his food, but didn't share the same enthusiasm about the food that his friend did. He ate this kind of stuff every day, so for him it wasn't anything to get excited about. “Did you want to try and get new clothes? I was thinking I could get us a table too. So we don't have to eat on the floor.”

"Yep. It is. You have to hide and not get caught or else you'll get busted." John felt like he was explaining it well. Basically, spies for him was just a fancier game of hide and seek. And you could move from one spot to the other as long as you were sneaking. And if anyone saw you, you had to freeze. Even if they didn't touch you. "You don't have to eat on the floor." He looked up at the desk Sherlock had. "But some new clothes will be good. I don't want to get stinky."

Sherlock listened as John explained the game and continued to eat his food. “But if I eat at the desk, then I can't eat with you.” He wanted to do everything with his new friend. That was what friends were for, weren't they? He was still trying to figure out what it meant to have a friend but so far John was doing a good job showing him, he thought. “Do you want to use my shower? Maybe you can borrow another's slaves clothes so we can go out?”

"Oh okay." John smiled shyly and looked down at his food. That was really nice and unexpected. Sherlock must have been taking this friend thing really seriously. John wasn't sure it would work since the other boy was his master, but it was going really good so far. "I took a shower yesterday before I came." He felt like he didn't need one yet. He didn't even do any dirty work yesterday.

Sherlock nodded a bit. He finished his food. The dish from last night for the cake was still on the floor. “Take the dishes downstairs and wash them, I'm sure the other slaves can show you where the go. Maybe you can talk to someone your age and get some clothes. I will see if I can talk to Mummy about taking us shopping.” He had never heard of a master taking a slave shopping before but, John was his boy so shouldn't he be able to do what he wanted?

"Okay." John got up and stacked the plates and cups. Sherlock was getting good at giving orders, he thought. He didn't mind, he was used to work, but it wasn't how he usually was with his friends. He hadn't remembered seeing any kids last night, but maybe they weren't allowed in the kitchen. He would have to be though so that he could wash the dishes. "Where should I wait for you when I'm done?" He asked, standing by the door.

Sherlock watched John get all the dishes. He would hate being a slave, he figured. It would mean doing a lot of stuff he wouldn't want to. But he didn't have to worry about that kind of thing since he was a master. He thought about the question for a moment. “Downstairs, in the foyer.” He nodded a bit at his words.

Once he left his room, Sherlock was hearing whispers about something. He didn't usually pay attention to the gossip in the manor though. But he stopped when heard someone whispering about him and John and then someone giggled. He frowned in confusion but decided to go find his Mum instead. It had taken a lot of convincing and begging but his Mum had never been able to tell him 'no' really. He knew how to get his way with her, if he really wanted it. She didn't seem to approve of him saying John and he were friends but he didn't have time to question it because he had to go tell his slave the good news. He rushed out of the sitting room and out to the foyer.

Mrs. Hudson showed John how to do the dishes and where to put them away. He asked if there were any slaves his age in the house and Mrs. Hudson said there were a couple. A young girl walked in and John asked what her name was.

"Oh that's little Molly Hooper." Mrs. Hudson said with a friendly smile. "But you be sure to be nice. Her papa is a fierce one," she warned with a wag of her finger.

John turned a little red and tried to say that's not why he wanted to know. He stepped off the stepping stool and ran over to Molly.

"Molly, do you know where I can borrow some clothes?"

She looked him up and down and then her eyes turned wide. "Your John aren't you?"

"Yes, why?' John asked, feeling like he was in a hurry. "I just need some clothes so I can meet with Sherlock."

"My friend Abby said you were sleeping in the same bed as Sherlock. You can't do that John! You're a slave, you are gonna get us all in trouble!"

John sighed. This was going nowhere and he wasn't gonna get in trouble. "I'll go find some myself." He began walking past her.

Molly grabbed her hands and sighed. "I'll find you some. I bet you'll fit my big brothers."

They went to the laundry room and Molly tried to ask a few more questions, but John's mouth stayed shut. He wasn't going to say anything he wasn't suppose to. Besides the girl seemed a little angry at him and wanted to know mostly about Sherlock. Finally he was wearing some clean jeans and worn t-shirt. He thanked Molly before running away as fast as he could. He ran into the foyer happy to see Sherlock already there. "Hello. Are we going?"

Sherlock nodded. “Mummy said yes.” He frowned. “I don't think she likes me being friends with you. Is it...against the rules for masters to be friends with slaves? If it is, that's stupid and I don't care!" He pouted for a little bit and then looked around them. "Mum should be here soon.” He peered through a window and outside. The black limo was already there and ready for them. “Want to wait in the car?”

"I don't know." John looked around worriedly. He didn't want to tell Sherlock what Molly had said. That he was gonna get in trouble and maybe even Sherlock would. That didn't seem right. Sherlock was in charge and would make sure nothing bad happen to John ever. "I don't think its bad." He shuffled his feet on the floor. He looked out the window when Sherlock did. His mouth fell open at the sight of the limo. It was even nicer than the car he had arrived in. "Yes, please!" He jumped up and down a few times.

Sherlock nodded and then led them outside. The chauffeur opened the door for them. He climbed in and made sure to scoot over so John would be able to get in easily. To him it was just a car, but his friend seemed excited about it. Probably never been in one before, he guessed. It wasn't long before his Mum came along and she sat across from them.

When the door was closed and the partition to the front of the limo was up, Mrs. Holmes smiled at the children. She had already heard quite a few rumors about the boys and she wasn't sure which to address first. “John, is it true you slept in Sherlock's bed with him last night?”

“Mum, I told him-”

His mother cut him off. “Sherlock, I am talking to John right now. It is rude to interrupt. You will have your turn shortly.” She looked back to her son's slave, giving the boy a warm smile. “Don't by shy dear. Just tell the truth and everything will be fine.”

John wasn't sure if he trusted Mistress Holmes. Her smile was friendly, but Sherlock seemed like he wanted to talk to her, and not let her talk to John. He looked at Sherlock worriedly before facing Mistress Holmes again. He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable from all the pressure. Finally he nodded. "Sherlock didn't want me to sleep on the floor, Mistress Holmes." He glanced at Sherlock again. He wasn't trying to put the blame on Sherlock. Quite the opposite, he was trying to say how nice Sherlock had been to him. Sherlock wasn't going to get in trouble was he?

Sherlock was trying hard not to outburst and say it had been his idea. John shouldn't get in trouble for doing what he had been told. He turned his head and glared out the window.

Mrs. Holmes was quiet a moment, as she studied her son and then returned her attention back to John. “Why didn't you sleep in the quarters for the other slaves? There is more than enough room for you to find an open bunk there.

John hated the silence. Would she just say whether or not he was in trouble? He really needed to know because if he was going to get a punishment he wanted to know so he would get ready to not cry. He glanced at Sherlock again to see what he should say, but Sherlock was looking out the window. "Sherlock said I had to sleep in his room. Sorry, Mistress Holmes." He felt like that he was in trouble even if it wasn't his fault. His looked at the floor and wondered if he should get down on his knees like a good slave was suppose to. It didn't even occur to him that he might get in trouble for not calling Sherlock by a title.

Mrs. Holmes was quiet again, a thoughtful frown on her lips. It wasn't traditional for slaves to stay in a masters room unless it was a pleasure slave. The boys were too young to understand that. “Sherlock, why did you have John sleep in your room?” She knew her youngest son didn't like the formalities between masters and slaves but the boy needed to learn. She looked back to John. “When it is just you two, you may call him Sherlock. But out and around others you must refer to him as Sir or Master Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked away from the window. He wanted to protest that John was his and should only listen to him. He sighed in defeat and shrugged. “John is mine right? So, shouldn't he stay with me? I was going to have him sleep on the floor but then he taught me how to play pirates and we became friends. Friends don't let friends sleep on the floor I didn't think. So I told him he could sleep on the bed with me.” Had that been wrong? His mother still had that disapproving frown.

“Sherlock, dear, slaves aren't meant to be friends. I am glad you finally found someone your own age you can play with and that's okay. But other slaves might get jealous or upset if you give John special treatment. Do you understand? He still has to do chores like everyone else.”

"Yes, ma'm." John said quickly, putting his hands in his lap and continuing to look down. He wasn't going to be allowed to sleep in Sherlock's room anymore. That was sad. He wasn't sure if he was going to like living with the other kids slaves here. Molly had been mean and they're didn't seem to be a lot of them there anyway. He listened to Sherlock explain himself, and smiled a bit. At least Sherlock wasn't saying it was John's fault. But Mistress Holmes still said no after all that. He wanted to speak up and say he had done chores. He got Sherlock's breakfast and washed the dishes. But he knew slaves weren't supposed to speak unless spoken too. So he stayed quiet.

Sherlock was confused and angry. He thought furiously for moment and then smirked. “Father says you can reward slaves for good behavior. If John does all his chores without complaint, can't his reward be he sleeps in my room?”

Mrs. Holmes couldn't help the small smile that touched her lips. It was tough having bright sons sometimes. The logic was sound and she really wasn't ready to give the sex talk to children as young as they were. “All right. But John will have to work extra hard at his chores and no play time until they are done either. Are we clear?”

Sherlock grinned and nodded. “John is really good at chores Mummy. I'll make sure he does them.” That his job as a master, right? He wanted to be a good master to John, since John was being such a good slave for him.

Mrs. Holmes smiled again. “Good.” The limo came to a stop at the shopping center. “We are here to get John some suitable clothes and that is all. No window shopping children.” The car door opened for them and she got out.

John was happy Sherlock was sticking up for him. He was really good at chores. He always did his old one really quickly and really well. He waited until Mistress Holmes got out of the car the lean in and whisper into Sherlock's ear. "She scares me a little, sir." He got out of the car after Sherlock. He wanted to grab Sherlock hand's as he looked up at the shopping center. He had only been shopping with his mum a few times when she had gone to buy groceries for the old manor. But he wasn't used to the crowds and loud noises that the shopping center seemed full of. He stood extra close to Sherlock.

“If you think mum is scary then don't make Father angry,” Sherlock muttered before he got out of the limo. He didn't really like shopping and didn't go often if he could help it. He knew he wasn't supposed to wander off alone in big public places like this and his Mum seemed cross at them already and he didn't want another talking to on the way home so he made sure to stay next to his Mummy.

Mrs. Holmes led the children inside and to the boys section that would John's size. “John, what kind of clothes did you have at your old house?”

John swallowed and nodded. He hadn't even met Master Holmes yet, not formally anyway. Just in passing on his first day. That was a scary though that he would be even scarier than Mistress Holmes. "I won't, sir." He stayed close to Sherlock as they walked with Mistress Holmes to the boys section of the store. The clothes here looked a lot nicer than the clothes John had worn at home. "Um, work clothes, ma'm." John said, not sure how to describe it. He was just a small boy after all. "Lots of cloth shirts like this and shorts so we wouldn't get to hot." He pulled on the t-shirt he was wearing for reference.

Sherlock didn't like being called 'sir' but he didn't say anything about it. He was already bored and he wanted to go find something to do, but his Mum had already warned them they were only here for clothes. He wasn't good at standing still and doing _nothing._ He found himself fidgeting a bit and without really even realizing it, he reached for John's hand for comfort.

“You will be working in the manor mostly, so the clothes will be more formal.” Mrs. Holmes picked out white shorts and black trousers, three all similar in style. “You will work in these. You are  _ not _ to play in them outside.” She got John some shorts and t-shirts to run around in when not doing chores. “This will do for now. We won't have a formal function for a month and before then we will get you tailored made suit for special events we hold at the manor later. Come along children. Time to check out.”

John sighed happily when Sherlock grabbed his hand. He squeezed it just a little for comfort and to let his master know it was okay. It was nice and suddenly the crowds didn't seem too bad. Mistress Holmes however, did. John said 'yes, ma'am' and 'thank you ma'am' when he thought it was necessary. He didn't know how he would look in a suit or even if he would like it, but he supposed going to special events might be nice. He wondered if he would have to be a waiter or help the staff. Or he if he would just stand with Sherlock. He was excited to get play clothes. He was scared Mistress Holmes wasn't planning on letting him play at all. "Thank you Mistress Holmes." He followed her to the check out and still holing Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock blinked a bit when he felt the squeeze. He smiled and moved a little closer to John when they moved to the check out. At least shopping hadn't taken that long. The worst was walking around everywhere and looking at things but not actually buying anything. Once his Mum had paid he followed her back out to the waiting limo. The driver was staring at he and John as they approached but he quickly stared forward and opened the door for them to get in.

Mrs. Holmes had been busy buying clothes and on her mobile while walking to the car, she hadn't even noticed that the boys were holding hands

John slid into the car after Sherlock, happy that Mistress Holmes seemed preoccupied with her mobile and wasn't paying attention to John anymore. The driver put everything in the back and then got up front to take them back home, he assumed anyway. He leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder and sat close like they had been last night. He wanted to ask a question, but was scared of getting in trouble. He looked at Mistress Holmes to make sure she was still busy on her mobile before whispering to Sherlock. "What sort of chores will I have, Master Sherlock?" He made sure to use the title in case Mistress Holmes was listening.

Sherlock snuggled close to John as well, because it had been rather nice last night. “Um...get my food. Clean the dishes when they are done. Make sure my room is clean and my bathroom too. Real good. Father will inspect every now and then to make sure slaves are doing their jobs. He will run a white gloved finger over things, to make sure there isn't a speck of dust.” He dropped his voice, “he is strict on the slaves but if you do your job then you are okay. If you don't...” He trailed off and glanced at his Mum uncertainly. “....just don't get in trouble okay?”

"I won't," John said confidently. He was a little worried. He hadn't had many cleaning jobs before. At least not like this one. He cleaned stables, he didn't do fine tooth cleaning on the inside of the house. But he was sure he could do a good job and make everything super spotless like it was supposed to be. "I'll clean good for you, sir." He was happy he didn't have to do any chores that didn't have to do with Sherlock. He wouldn't mind just cleaning after his own master.

Sherlock nodded. “I am sure I will think of more things for you do. So Mum thinks you are earning your keep to stay with me in my room.” He still didn't understand what the big deal was. Why should he care if other slaves got upset or jealous? Just because he didn't really like anyone else and he liked John. People were stupid he decided. They arrived back home and he got out after his Mum had, still holding on to John's hand.

"Yes, Master Sherlock." He hoped Sherlock didn't come up with too many. He wanted to have time to play and to show him how to play spies today. They got back to the house and John wondered if he should leave now and get to work on cleaning. He would have to go ask Mrs. Hudson where to get supplies and then he could do a really good job. Instead he stayed quiet because Mistress Holmes was still around and she might have more things to tell him.

Mrs. Holmes finally turned to look at the boys and frowned when she saw them holding hands. She sighed but decided not to say anything about it for the time being. “Sherlock, make sure John stays busy today. You didn't have him do much yesterday. If I don't think you are giving him enough work, I'll find him things to do. John, take those bags to Sherlock's room since that is were you will be staying. It is your job to make sure your clothes are washed and taken care of. No wrinkles in the work clothes. Iron them if need be. If you don't know how, have an adult show you how.” She then turned and left the boys to be alone.

Sherlock bit his tongue while his Mum spoke and sighed when she finally left. “Come on,” he said a little dejectedly. He had wanted to learn how to play spies with John but if his slave was going to work all day when would they have time to play?

John noticed Mistress Holmes's frown and nearly yanked his hand away. She didn't say anything though so it really must not be too bad for him to do. He sighed in relief after she had left and turned to Sherlock. It sounded like they wanted him to do a lot of stuff. Maybe even more than he had done at the other house. He thought he was supposed to be Sherlock's present and do whatever he wanted him to do. He knew Sherlock wanted to play with him, so why couldn't he just play with Sherlock like he wanted to? It didn't seem fair. He picked up the bags with his free hand and started walking up to the room with Sherlock. "What do you want me to do first, sir?" He had forgotten to say Sherlock's name now.


	5. Chapter 5

“No one is around, you are allowed to call me Sherlock now.” The boy glanced around to make sure they were alone just in case. He walked up the stairs and into his room. They would be safe in there to do what they wanted, without anyone staring or whispering about them. He was so mad about it and just didn't understand any of it. “My desk is messy. And I think the book is still on the floor from last night. Just make sure it is nice and clean. And if you make sure it stays that way all the time, then it will be easy to keep up and not take too much time.” He glanced around the room and then smiled. “John! I have an idea. Clear off my desk completely. Then push it to the end of the bed and then we can both sit on the bed to eat and use the desk instead of the floor.” He nodded very pleased with his idea.

"Yes, Sherlock." John was unhappy with himself for forgetting. He supposed it was better than him forgetting in front of one of Sherlock's parents. He listened to Sherlock's instructions and grabbed the book off the floor, putting it back on the shelf. He looked at the desk and saw it was messy. Lots of papers and pencils. He started to put them away quickly, putting the pencils in the pencil cup and the papers in one pile so Sherlock could sort through them later. He stopped when Sherlock got an idea and turned to look at him. "Okay!" He put the pencil cup and the stack of papers on the floor. He picked up the few books and ran over to put them back on the book shelf. He ran back to the desk. He just had to push it down the wall, but it was heavy. He leaned on the edge of it with all his weight, but it only budged a little. "Can you help me?" He tried pushing hard with his shoulder but it still didn't move too much.

Sherlock watched John work, amazed at how quick his slave did things without sulking or anything. “Okay.” He moved over to the desk and helped John push it toward the end of the bed. When it was finally in place, he slumped down against it. He had never done hard work like that in his life and he decided he most certainly didn't like it. How did John work like that so quickly and easily?

The desk was much easier to push with Sherlock helping him. They were able to do it quickly and without much effort in John's opinion. He frowned a little as Sherlock slumped against it when they were done. He got in his knees in front of Sherlock and looked at him carefully. He looked really tired but that hadn't been hard at all. He put a hand to Sherlock's forehead and tried to feel for a fever. "You okay, Sherlock?" he asked, looking around his hand at Sherlock's face. "I don't want you to get sick."

“Yeah...just...tired.” Sherlock shrugged a little. “Are all slave duties so tiresome? I don't think I could do what you do John.” He didn't do much in the way of anything physical. He just read and spent time in the secret passages with his experiments. He finally got up so he could get out his slave's way and that way John could put the stuff back on the desk.

John nodded. A lot of the chores he had at home was harder than this, but he had help. Or they took longer. Cleaning out the horses' much took forever. "That's okay, Sherlock." John said, picking up the pencil up and setting it neatly on the desk. "That's why you have me. I'm a tough worker." he said, holding up his arm to show off his small amount a muscle. Well a decent amount for a ten year old anyway. He picked up the stack of papers and tried to set them nicely before turning and looking at Sherlock. "I'm sorry for asking, I didn't realise you would get so tired.' he admitted.

Sherlock climbed up on the bed, laying on his stomach so he could continue watching John work. “I don't think I have any muscle...” He glanced down at his small, thin arms. His whole frame was wiry really. He decided he liked watching his slave work. He'd never been interested in it before but he'd discovered he wasn't interested in a lot things until he met John. “I am glad you are my slave. I'm never getting rid of you, ever.”

John laughed as he placed the papers on the desk. "Free-people don't need them." he said, finding this conversation silly. He looked around and found a lot of other part's of Sherlock's room was dirty too. He started to pick up and dirty clothes and run to put them in the hamper. He did the same with any trash, putting it in the small can Sherlock had in his room. He also picked up a lot of books and a few more papers he didn't think were trash, running and putting them in the right spot. He didn't even really notice that Sherlock was watching him. When Sherlock spoke John stopped and turned a little red. "Really?" he asked, sounding a bit surprised by the idea. It was nice but people sold slaves all the time. John would be really happy if Sherlock kept him forever. He kind of wanted to be sold into the army when he was older, but he wasn't going to tell Sherlock that.

Sherlock nodded. “I want to keep you forever.” He smiled but it faltered into a frown. “I think I need to learn to be a better master though. That is why Mum was mad, wasn't it?” He sighed. “I don't know why my parents get to tell you what to do when you belong to me. It isn't fair!” He didn't get to tell his parents personal slaves what to do. He turned away from John to pout at the wall.

"I think you're a good master." John said, continuing to clean up as he went. He liked having someone to talk to while he worked. It made everything go a little quicker. He didn't like the idea of Sherlock turning into a master more like Mistress Holmes. If he was a master like that, then they wouldn't be able to be friends! John remembered something Sherlock had said and shifted on his feet. "I know Mistress Holmes said it was bad." John started, feeling a bit self conscious about asking. "But are we still friends?"

Sherlock stared at the wall a bit, still pouting, and arms crossed over his chest. Eventually he looked back to John nodded. “Of course we are! I don't care what anyone says or thinks! They are all stupid anyway!” A pause and he looked at his slave. “Do you really think I'm a good master? I was a big prat to you when we first met.”

John started cleaning again, waiting for Sherlock's answer. The longer he waited the more sure he was it was no but, Sherlock proved him wrong. He smiled happily at his Master and walked over. He wanted to sit on the bed, but he wasn't sure he was allowed anymore. The room was as clean as it was going to get without any supplies. He had picked everything off the floor. He nodded. "You were, but I think that's just because I was new. You got nicer. Are you gonna be a prat again?" he asked, sounding very serious.

Sherlock thought about that. “I won't try to be but I can't promise I won't be ever again either.” He shrugged a little. “But since we are friends, I'll try really hard to be nicer to you.” He was worried if he was too mean to John, he would lose the only friend he had ever had and that made him really sad to think about. “We will be friends forever, just like you will always be my slave.” He nodded at his words once more, liking the idea of that.

John continued to stand by the bed, his arms behind his back. His head was ducked down and looking at Sherlock. He was glad that his master was going to try for him. It was better than him trying to be a prick on purpose. Apparently he old master did that a lot, but John had never met the man. "Okay, Sherlock.' he said, nodding and agreeing. He looked around at the floor. The carpet needed to be hoovered but the big stuff was all gone. "What do you want me to do now?"

Sherlock glanced around the room, pretty sure it was the cleanest it had ever been. “Did you put your clothes away yet that my Mum bought? You can use my closet if you want. It is really big!” He jumped off the bed and went to his walk-in closet and flipped on a light. There was plenty of room for John to put his stuff in there.

John shook his head. He had forgotten about his own clothes. He looked in Sherlock's closet and saw he was right. There was a lot of space and John didn't have very many clothes. "Can I have this shelf?" he asked, pointing to an empty one towards the bottom. His few outfits would fit on there just fine, along with his under garments and one pair of shoes he had now. He ran over to grab the bags by the door.

Sherlock nodded. “Okay.” He thought for a moment. “Lunch should be soon, so if you bring us food we can eat and you can take a break while we eat.” He moved out of the closest and back up on his bed, so he could have a better vantage point in the room and watch John work some more. He wasn't sure why he liked watching his slave work, but he did.

"Yes, Sherlock" John said, pulling the bags over to the closet. He was glad it was lunch. John was really hungry again, but he was known to have a big appetite. His mum said it as from all the hard work he did. His work wouldn't be so hard anymore, so maybe he would eat less. He pulled his clothes out and laid them down carefully. He remembered what Mistress Holmes had said about wrinkles. "Do you go to school?" John asked while he put his things away.

“I used to go to a private school but my parents took me out and now I have a tutor. Here at the manor He is away on some kind business for my parents right now.” Sherlock shrugged. He wasn't sure what a tutor would do other than teach but he didn't ask questions because it meant he didn't have to do his studies. He knew it all anyway, so he didn't see the point. “Do slaves get schooling?” He asked. He didn't think so, but he wasn't sure if slaves had a school to teach them how to do slaves...or they just knew what to do?

John listened to Sherlock and thought that sounded really cool. It was like he had his own personal teacher. John's mum wasn't a teacher but she still tried to teach a bunch of the slave kids at hid old house. He got up and shook his head. "Nope. I don't get to go to school. But I heard other people talk about it. It's where free-people go to learn maths and spellings." he said, sounding fairly impressed by the idea. "I just learned to read because my mum knew and she wanted me to know too. Most kids don't learn."

“Well, I can teach you to read at night before we go sleep like last night.” Sherlock shifted on the bed, so he could lay on his stomach, elbows propped up and his chin on his hands. He sighed, a frown forming on his lips. “I don't think we are going to get to play today. Cause I'll have to give you more chores after lunch.” He was worried if he didn't give John enough to do, his Mum would take his slave away from him.

"You do?" John asked, sounding disappointed. They couldn't play at all? That hardly seemed fair. "Okay, Sherlock." he said, kicking his feet up a little and shifting his weight. He couldn't even be happy that Sherlock wanted to teach him to read. Though he supposed that mean that they would get to do something sort of fun before bed. And if he did a good job he would get to sleep in Sherlock's bed again. "You want me to grab lunch now?"

Sherlock was just as disappointed as John was about not being able to play. "I don't want Mum to take you away from me," he explained and hoped John would understand. It was something he would probably worry about for awhile or at least until his Mum didn't seem so upset. "Yes please." He wasn't really hungry anymore but he needed to make sure his slave stayed busy.

John thought about it for just a second and nodded. "I suppose you're right." He said, thinking about about how much Mistress Holmes scared him. He didn't want Mistress Holmes to give him a job far away from Sherlock. Or worse, sell him back. He would love to see his Mum and Dad again, but he would probably just be sold again. Maybe to someplace really bad. "I'll be back." he said, excusing himself from the room.

While John was getting lunch, Sherlock went to see if the bathroom would need cleaned next. It probably should, just in case. On his way back to the room he heard more gossip about he and John but he didn't understand what was being talked about. Maybe John would know. He climbed back up on the bed and waited for his slave to return with his food.

John manage to get lunch for two. It was harder this time. Mrs.Hudson wasn't there and the other slave said John had to eat downstairs. John lied and said the food wasn't for him, and they handed it over with a frown. It was sandwiches and apple slices. And more juice! John wasn't sure if he would ever get use to all the food he got here. He got it off of the dumbwaiter and walked back into Sherlock's room. He set it on the desk and sat on the bed beside Sherlock. "I did it.' he announced, noticing the look on Sherlock's face. "What's wrong?"

Sherlock sighed and shrugged. "All day I have heard other slaves talk about us. I just ignored it this morning but then I heard some more when you went to get lunch. They said the reason you are sleeping in my room is because you were my pleasure slave? And that we were both too young for that." He frowned in thought and shook his head. "John...what's a pleasure slave and are you one?"

John turned bright red. Really red. Of course he knew what a pleasure slave was. He was eleven years old and had lived with slaves all his life and knew all the different kinds. He had even heard some older girls talking about how much they wanted to be pleasure slaves because then they wouldn't have to work. He thought they were really dumb. If you did that with your master then how were you suppose to have a girlfriend or boyfriend? "It's um." he said, kicking his feet off the edge of the bed and gripping his hands together. "It's a slave a master has sex with." he said, really quietly like it was a secret.

Sherlock studied John while he waited for answer. Oh. He had accidentally walked in on Mycroft once and had sex explained to him then a little over a year ago. "But...we just sleep in the same bed together! Why are they saying things that aren't true? And even if you were a pleasure slave, what business is of there's?" Did all slaves gossip like that? He hadn't paid much attention in the past to it but he had never heard his name come up before either.

John's face got redder and he buried his face in his hands. He couldn't believe people thought that of him and Sherlock. They were too little! And he couldn't do that with Sherlock. He was a boy and Sherlock was a boy too! He was gonna get married one day and have kids and never be a pleasure slave, not ever. "They're all stupid." John said, lifting his head up and pouting. "And I'm not a pleasure slave!" he said, raising his voice a little. He didn't want Sherlock to even say it as a hypothetical.

Sherlock frowned at John's outburst, not entirely sure why his slave was so upset. "You won't be. I'm not even interested in it. It looks gross and looks like a lot of work. And if you are my slave forever, then no one will be able to use you like that." He gave John a small reassuring smile, hoping it would help calm his slave down. Maybe changing the subject would help. "John, come eat lunch with me. I'm hungry." He moved over on the bed to make room for his slave.

John looked over at Sherlock and tried to relax. "Promise?" John said, sitting on the bed beside Sherlock. He picked up his sandwich and bit into it. He didn't know why he was so worried. You couldn't even be a pleasure slave until you were sixteen. That was five years away. Practically forever. He still wanted to hear Sherlock promise though. He thought it would make him feel better. He leaned on Sherlock's shoulder. It was his break after all.

Sherlock nodded. "I promise." He ate quietly after that, thinking things through. "Do you think that was my Mum was so upset this morning in the car?" Maybe he should talk to her again while John cleaned the bathroom. Would it make things better or worse to bring it up? He sighed at his thoughts and began picking at his food, no longer really all that hungry.

John manage to smile and took a few more bites of his sandwich, kicking his legs against the side of the bed softly as he did. "I don't know." John said with a shrug. He really didn't want to think about that anymore. He wanted to play with Sherlock and clean and not think about what anyone else thought. Especially if it had to do with John being a pleasure slave. Mistress Holmes couldn't really think that could she? "It might be." He admitted, picking up an apple piece and eating it.

Sherlock nodded, falling quiet once more. He stopped eating, not even finishing half of the sandwich on his plate. He climbed off the bed and walk towards the door but stopped and turned to look at John before leaving. "When you are done eating, take the dishes downstairs and wash them. Then clean the bathroom. If you need supplies to clean with, just ask another slave. They should know where everything is. I will be back before dinner. I'm going to talk to Mum I think." Without waiting for a reply he retreated to downstairs.

John's eyes opened up, surprised as the sudden onslaught of orders. He nodded while he ate his sandwish. His eyes opened even wider when Sherlock said he was going to talk to Mistress Holmes. "No wait!" he said, but Sherlock was already down stairs. John stared at his sandwich and sighed. Sherlock was going to get him in trouble he knew it. He was gonna repeat something John had said and then John would be in trouble. He took another bite of his sandwich before putting it back on the plate. He figured he better start his chores sooner than later.

Sherlock had heard John call out but he didn't turn around. Really, he just wanted to be alone. Maybe he would talk to his Mum later. He wandered around the manor, trying to ignore the hushed whispered conversations going on around him and the occasional giggle. After awhile he found his Mummy and talked to her, feeling a little better actually. He gave her a hug afterward and went back upstairs to see if John was done working.

John was cleaning the toilet when he heard footsteps. Sherlock's bathroom had been horrible. Didn't anyone clean it before John had come along? Or maybe they just avoided it for some reason. John was going to keep it much cleaner now. And maybe tell Sherlock he was much to old to be 'missing' the toilet. He was old his knees cleaning the base when he turned around. "Hello Sherlock." he said with a smile, not as angry anymore. He did however smell like bleach and cleaner.

Sherlock made a face at the way the bathroom smelled. He had never really liked the smell of bleach or disinfectant. He stood outside but could still smell the fumes. "Hi John. Are you almost done?" He stared at the bathroom in amazement. It looked a lot better than it usually did. He smiled. "It looks good."

John scrubbed the floor hard with the rag before answering Sherlock. "Yep." He said, in a mindset after all the cleaning. He dipped the rag in his cleaning bucket and ringed it out. Both his trousers and shirt were rolled up to his knees and elbows and he looked really tired. "Thank you." He said, getting one last spot and standing up. "I just have to put my stuff away now, sir." he said, still smiling.

Sherlock frowned at being called 'sir' and glanced around the hall to see if anyone else was around but it was just them. He wiped at this nose, wondering how John wasn't gagging on the smell. "I will be in my room. Will you change out of those clothes and have them washed?" He almost suggested burned but he wasn't sure if that was one of the outfits his Mum had just bought.

John dumped the bucket into the toilet and flushed. He began putting all his rags and cleaners in the bucket and turned to face Sherlock. "Are you going to have me do more chores?" he asked. He wouldn't mind, but if he had more chores he shouldn't change into clean clothes yet. Then he would just get another set of clothes dirty after wards. He did only have three sets of work clothes.

Sherlock thought about the question for a moment. “Well, you'll get my dinner and do those dishes after. But I can't think of anything else for you to do.” And he couldn't. He wasn't sure what John was going to do tomorrow. How many times could his slave clean his bedroom and bathroom? Being a master was turning out a lot harder than he thought it would. He was going to have to come up with new ways to keep John busy, so his friend could sleep in the same bed as him.

"Okay then." John said, wiping his hands on his shirt. He should get to dirty just doing dishes. He could probably save the clothes he changed into for tomorrow. "Is it okay if I put then with your clothes and wash them together?" he said, remembering Sherlock's hamper in the room he had to take care of. He had so many dirty clothes. John felt bad that no one had been taking care of Sherlock before him.

Sherlock nodded. “Yeah, okay.” It made sense. John was a good at being a slave. He hadn't even thought of having John do his laundry too. None of the other slaves had really wanted to take care of his stuff, so it often went undone until one of his parents made a slave do it. It hadn't been something he had thought about really. He didn't mind messes, because he was usually thinking about something or working on a project. To him, those were more important.

"Thank you, Sherlock." he said, grabbing the bucket to go downstairs. He got out of the bathroom and a little into the hallway before he stopped, needing to ask Sherlock something. "Um- I just wanted to know, if I'm allowed." he said, figuring he was probably about to break a rule or something. But it had really been bothering him. "What did you and Mistress Holmes talk about?" he asked, staring down at the floor.

“I was mad that the other slaves were sayings things about us. It really upset you right? I don't want you to be mad. Mum says slaves don't work as well when they are worried about things. If you don't work hard, you'll get in trouble and can't stay in my room anymore. So, I explained everything to her. And she is going to make sure Father talks to the slaves gossiping so it will stop.” Sherlock smiled, pleased with himself.

John nodded. It had upset him a bunch to hear that people were saying that about him. John didn't think it was a good thing to be and didn't want anything to think it. He listened to Sherlock explain about what he had done. His face lit up in a soft way and he looked really surprised. "Thank you." he said quietly, really happy his master had done that for him. He wanted to give Sherlock a hug but he was still stinky. "I'll be back in just a minute."  he said, running to take the bucket down

Sherlock smiled again, happy that John was smiling again. Wasn't part of being a good master, making sure the slave was properly taken care of too? He really didn't know. His parents took care of all the other slaves in the manor, as long as they did their job and John always did his really well. He returned to his room and waited for John to return.

John put the supplies back where he found them in the mud room. He used the big sink in there to wash his hands and arms and face. He really did smell like cleaner and he didn't want to smell up Sherlock's room. He finished and headed back upstairs, ignoring the stares he received. He got into Sherlock's room and took out one of his new outfits. He was going to have to give this one back to Molly so she could return it. After he washed it of course. "Do we have time to play?" he asked, changing into his new clothes.

Sherlock stared at the ceiling, fingers under his chin while he waited for John to return. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the familiar voice. He brightened at the mention of playing a game. He hadn't thought they would have time before but maybe they could, especially since he had sorted everything with his Mum. “Okay!” He jumped off the bed, ready to go once John had changed.

John ran back into the closet and got play clothes instead of work clothes. It seemed silly now. Yesterday Sherlock hadn't even wanted to play and now he was really excited too. John pulled on his shows and smiled big. "We're gonna play in the garden today and play spies!" he announced, holding a hand up. He didn't even think about the fact that he was ordering his master to do something. But it just seemed like what he should do. John knew how to play and Sherlock didn't.

Sherlock nodded, not bothering to change into something that wasn't as nice as what he was wearing. It didn't really matter to him. “Okay. Do we need anything? I'm sure we have toy guns and other things to use in the toy room.” His parents kept all the toys they'd bought him in a room of its own, in hopes their son would one day be interested in them.

John stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to face Sherlock. "You have toy guns!?" he asked, his voice going up high in disbelief. The was the coolest thing ever. They could actually shoot at things! "Yes we do need those!" he said, jumping and itching with excitement to get a hold of a toy gun. He had always just used sticks, like they had yesterday but this would be much better.

“Okay. Follow me to the toy room.” Sherlock left he his room and went down the hall to the end, opening the last door on the right. The room was a bit of a mess. Nothing was organized really. He frowned a bit, wandering if they would be able to find the toy guns easily. “Hey John...I think I found something for you to do tomorrow.” By the looks of it, it might take the slave all day to put things on shelves and back in boxes, as most of the toys had just been tossed in carelessly

John picked up a perfectly good toy handgun. He didn't have a holster, but it was okay. He didn't need one. "We could play inside if you want." John said, carefully. "But someone might get made at us for if we get in their way. " He explained, thinking of how embarrassing it would be if someone saw him hiding behind a side table or something. "I thought the garden would be good. Lots of places to hide." He said, picking up his gun and pointing it at a stuff bear that was on the floor. "That's what you have to do in spies. Hide and try to shoot the other spy." he said, pretending to shoot the toy.

Sherlock thought for moment and then nodded. “Outside would probably be better then I guess.” He watched John with the gun curiously and then pulled out his own, staring at in his hand before copying his slave's actions. “So...are we playing against each other? Or are we doing more stuff with imagination and pretending there are bad guys to shoot?”

"Me and my old friends always played against each other." John said, putting his gun down and turning to look at Sherlock. He felt like he had a big job to do, explaining the rules and everything. "We would take turns. One would be the spy who was trying to hide and get secret files, and the other would be hunting the other spy and trying to shoot them." he explained. "We can play the other way too if you want. We can shoot the bushes and pretend they're bad spies."

Sherlock thought about the options before replying. “Playing against each other sounds like more fun I think.” He turned and left the toy room, assuming John would follow without being instructed. He led them out to the big garden behind the manor. “You can be the spy stealing stuff first and I will hunt you.” Trying to find John sounded more interesting than being hunted.

"Okay." He said, excited. That had sounded more fun to him too. He followed Sherlock through the manor, nearly skipping on every step. He had worked hard today and wanted to play lots before dinner. Sherlock announced he wanted to hunt John and John nodded. "Okay, but you have to turn around and count to ten." he instructed, twirling his gun in a circle like Sherlock should.

Sherlock turned around and counted to ten in his head. He wanted to peek but he figured that would be cheating so instead he listened for the direction John went based on foot steps. He turned around as soon as he counted. He was supposed to go looking now, right? He followed the path he thought he had heard John go down.

The second Sherlock turned around John ran. The garden was really big and he should be able to find a hiding place far away from Sherlock. He decided he would see if he could get to the back of the garden without Sherlock seeing him. It would be a little game he played with himself. He counted to eight in his own head before running behind some bushes. He breathed slowly and waited to see if Sherlock came this way.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock followed along a path, but the garden was big and the footsteps hadn't been heard after awhile. John could be anywhere now. He decided he didn't like looking after all. He sighed and wanted to sit down to pout but would his friend just stay hidden the whole time, waiting to be found? That would be boring too. He decided to keep looking, only to find himself lost in the garden and frustrated rather than finding John.

John realized the garden was bigger than anyplace he had ever played in before. It might take ages for Sherlock to find him. That wouldn't be much fun at all. John began to backtrack a bit, and it wasn't long before he found Sherlock looking. John peeked out from behind some bushes and looked as his friend searched in the completely wrong direction. He giggled to himself and ruffled the leaves on the bush. Then he dashed the other way.

Sherlock heard the leaves rustle and frowned because there hadn't been any wind. It must have been John! Filled with renewed excitement and energy, he took off running in the direction he head heard the noise. Dang it! His friend was already gone. He wasn't used to running so he had to stop after a bit, breathing heavily putting a hand on his side because it was hurting.

John ran for just a bit, but stopped when he realized no one was following him. He frowned and turned around. Sherlock was really smart; he should have been able to find John after that. Then they would fight with their guns and switch turns. He started walking back, not being as sneaky as he had been earlier. He heard heavy breathing and walked a little quicker, crouching behind a bench so he could peek through and spy on Sherlock. He looked like he was really tired. Or maybe he was hurt since he was holding his side. John popped out from behind his bench. "You okay, Sherlock?"

Sherlock managed to catch his breath and he gave a slight nod. “Just...out of breath. I'm not used to running a lot.” He didn't want to sound like a baby by complaining his side hurt so he didn't mention it. Instead he dropped his hand and straightened to his full height. John had really wanted to play spies and he had messed it up hadn't he? Did this make him a bad friend? Would John want to stop showing him how to play other games? Worse, would he lose his only friend he had ever managed to make?

John trotted over to where Sherlock was and put a hand on his back. "It's okay.” He felt a bit bad. If Sherlock didn't do games a lot he probably would be bad at running. He thought back upstairs where all those balls and sports toys were. They probably wouldn't be able to play with those for a while, he thought with sad sigh. "Do you want to play spies together instead?" He gave Sherlock's back a gentle pat. "You don't run; you just have to tiptoe. And maybe so some fancy somersaults if you want.”

Sherlock nodded. “Okay.” He wasn't so sure about doing an somersaults, his side was still hurting. “You can do the fancy stuff, I think I will just stick to tip toeing for now.” He was used to being good at everything he did, but that was all academics. He had never gave much thought to physical fitness or getting in shape. Maybe he should start.

"Okay." John knew he shouldn't show off, but he couldn't help it. He crouched down and did three somersaults all the way back over to the bench he had been by. He crouched behind the bench again, before lifting his head up and looking side to side like he was checking the area for enemies. Then he flashed Sherlock a thumbs up before waving him over. He had on a super serious spy face, but he was about to crack at any moment and just start laughing.

Sherlock blinked as he watched John. His slave sure did have a lot of energy. He was pretty sure he didn't even have half of that kind strength. He started walking toward John, but then he remembered he was supposed to be tiptoeing and started doing it about half way to the bench. He felt a little silly, but he was trying to learn how to play this game John seemed so enthusiastic about.

John started to laugh when Sherlock tiptoed when he was already half way to the bench. He put his hands over his mouth so no enemies would hear him and managed to stop before Sherlock got all the way to him. "Okay. We're in an enemies base and we have to escape without being caught." He looked around as if he thought enemies were everywhere. "We have to sneak behind things and shoot any enemies we see."He picked up his gun and pointing it at the decorative statue across the way. He made a bang noise and pretended to shoot it before crouching down again. "Get it?"

Sherlock nodded. He got the basic jest of it, but how was he supposed to decide when he saw an enemy? The entire time since the game started, he hadn't taken out his plastic gun. Maybe he should, John had his out. He removed it from the hostler and for a moment didn't do anything. He could get into this, just like pirates...couldn't he? He thought for a bit and then pushed down on John's shoulder gently. “Get down,” he whispered and shot over his friend's head. Hopefully he was doing this right.

John got down right away, glad Sherlock was playing along. He held his gun close to him like he had seen in a telly program once. "Did you see someone?" John looked up at Sherlock excitedly. It was hard to act scared or seriously when he was having fun like this. "Hey, look."He got on one knee and put the gun between two planks of wood on the bench, thinking it would be a good place to shoot through. "How many are there?"

“I got them!” Sherlock replied, still trying to whisper although it as clear he was finally getting excited about the game. He frowned at John putting the gun in between the wood on the bench. He knew a lot about science and physics, and he wanted to say how that could screw up the trajectory of the bullet but he didn't. Games and science didn't seem to go together very well. And any time he spouted his wealth of knowledge to other children, he usually got made fun of. Oh yeah. John had asked a question. “Um...” He looked around... “Ten, I think.”

John's eyes flew open. "Ten?" He sounded a bit surprised and scared. He swiveled his gun left and right as if he was looking around at all of them. "Do you think we can get them all before we get caught?" He looked up at Sherlock again. He didn't mind letting Sherlock be in charge of what was happening in the game. He felt that meant he had done a good job explaining and teaching it. Soon Sherlock would know a lot of games and they would be able to take turns leading them.

Had that been too many? Sherlock nodded though. “Yeah. I think we can. What if we sneak up on some, while the others aren't looking?” Tactics and strategy! He could do that! He had learned all about those in his books about war. “If we can take them out quietly, they won't know we are here. I'll take the five on the left, you take the five on the right and then we will meet back here.”

"Sounds good, Agent Holmes." John giggle as he stepped out from underneath the bench and rolled to the bush on the right. He looked out from on top of it and pointed his gun. He pretended one of the guys stepped away from the group to go get some coffee or make a fax or something else adults working on top secret organizations would do. He pointed his gun and shot, pretending he hit him perfectly in the chest and he fell. He looked over and around to see what Sherlock was doing.

Sherlock watched John, to see what his friend would do, so that he could mimic the actions. He remembered to tiptoe all the way over to a bush, trimmed like a swan, and hid behind it. He stood there for a moment, before peeking around it and shooting someone when he was certain his imaginary foe had their back turned to him. He hid back behind the bush and then tiptoed over to a new one.

John watched as Sherlock repeated his action. He moved again, to another bush, and took out two more guys in his mind. He had a feeling the enemy would know about them now, but still wouldn't be able to find him. He was just that sneaky. It was a bit farther to the next bush he could hide behind, but he was sure he could make it. He went to somersault, but ended up tripping and falling on his face. In his head he heard sirens and alarm bells. "I've been spotted!" He screamed, getting to his feet and running as fast as he could. He pivoted the top of his body and pretended to shoot behind him.

Sherlock took out another bad guy and he turned in time to see John trip and fall. He shot another enemy and ran to aid his friend in the battle. “I got three, how many did you get?” There was probably only five or maybe four left now he figured. He wasn't sure, since he hadn't been keeping that close of count on how many John had killed.

"Four." John had just finished getting one right behind him. He remembered Sherlock wasn't good at running, so he lunged and fell behind a hedge on a side so maybe the bad guys would run pass them. He sat beside the ledge and held his gun tight. He laughed a little and then turned to Sherlock. "Did they run past?" He whispered, ready to stand up and gun the rest of them down.

Sherlock moved after John, but not with the same speed. He was ignoring the pain in his side that had come back from running again. He was really out of shape, wasn't he? “So, three left and yeah they just ran by. Let's get them!” He popped back up and began shooting at the remainder of the enemy spies.

John popped out and began to shoot with a loud scream. He just kept pressing the trigger over and over again. When he felts that he had ran out of bullets, he fall back onto the grass and began to laugh again. That had been fun. Looking up at the sky also showed him that it was getting a little dark, and he was getting pretty hungry. "Hey Sherlock, when's dinner?" He laid the gun on the ground beside him.

Sherlock wasn't sure why John was screaming and thought maybe something was wrong but then his friend was laying on the ground and laughing. Everything must be okay then. He sat down next to John and smiled a bit. “Soon, I think. It is getting dark though. Mum and Father don't like me out at night.” Well, on the rare occasions he actually went outside anyway. “We should head back in.”

"Alright, Sherlock." John didn't get up though. The grass was cool and he was enjoying laying on it. He thought he would rather sleep outside than have to get up at this moment in time. He turned his head to look at Sherlock where he was sitting. "You do like the games, don't you?" He had never taught someone to play and hoped he was doing it right.

Sherlock nodded. “Yeah. I didn't think I would but I think I am going to like playing games with you. Thank you for teaching me.” He was reminiscent for a moment after that. “I...was really lonely before you came along,” he admittedly quietly. He scratched slightly at his head, not used to admitting his feelings to anyone. But John was his friend now and friends were supposed to talk about things, right?

"No problem. Teaching you is fun." John gave a shrug, closing his eyes as he laid in the grass. Sherlock spoke again after a few moments and he peeked up at Sherlock. He looked kind of sad. He could have guessed that he had been lonely. He didn't have any friends to play with and no one even seemed to want to clean his room. They were all crazy in his opinion. He reached out and hugged Sherlock around the middle before squeezing him tight. "I'm glad you're less lonely now."

Sherlock smiled a bit at the hug and tentatively returned it. The only other people he had really ever hugged before was his parents and brother. He stayed there with John, enjoying his friend's company and it got a little darker. “Come on.” He stood up and offered a hand to help John up with. “We should go. Then you cam get me dinner and after we eat, I'll teach you to read some more before we have to go to bed.”

"Alright, Sherlock." John pulled away from his friend. He took his hand and let himself be dragged up. They headed to the house, and he hoped it wasn't too dark and they wouldn't get in trouble. He had a lot of fun today and didn't want it to be ruined with him getting punished right at the end of it.

Sherlock glanced around the manor when they got inside. Everyone seemed busy with getting dinner ready, to really notice them coming in at a late hour. He went up to his room and began getting his pajamas out. They were much more comfortable than the clothes he was wearing. “I am going to get ready for bed while you get us dinner.” Without much thought, he began undressing in the middle of the room.

"Okay. I can do the same when I get back." John didn't take much note of Sherlock undressing. He had shared a room with boys his age most of his life and he and Sherlock were going to be living in the same room anyway. He ran down the steps and into the kitchen, asking for two plates of food on the tray again. Mrs. Hudson told him to tell Sherlock that she was sure his family would like to see his face as soon time, and John promised to tell Sherlock. He brought the food up in the usual way and walked back down the hall and into Sherlock's room.

Sherlock had almost left his clothes on the floor after changing but then he remembered John had picked up his room today, so to keep it clean he put in the full hamper. His clothes were going to need to be washed soon. He climbed up onto his bed, feeling a bit tired and very hungry. He hadn't really eaten very much for lunch today.

"I have roasted chicken," John announced, bringing the food into Sherlock's room. He placed it on the desk and sniffed the air. There was also roasted potatoes and vegetables. John laughed at the idea of him getting fat from all this yummy food. "You gonna sit up and eat?" He walked into the closet to get one of his sets of pajamas. If Sherlock could eat in his pajamas so could he, he decided.

The food smelled really good. Sherlock moved to the end of the bed, where the desk was so he could eat the dinner there. He yawned and stretched a bit and began eating. The cooks in the manor always made the best food, he thought. Probably because his parents could afford personal chefs for the kitchen.

John finished changing into his new pajamas. They were really soft, but didn't have any kiddie designs on them, so he liked them. He ran over then sandwiched himself next to Sherlock and grabbed his own plate. He dug in and smiled at his master in silent thanks. He took a few more bites and drank some of his water to clear his throat. "Do I get to sleep in here again, Sherlock?" He wasn't even sure if Sherlock was allowed to make that decision. Would Mistress Holmes have to come and check his work? What if he hadn't done enough?

Sherlock ate the food, enjoying it and eating with a little more fervor than usual since he was so hungry. “I don't know why not. I had planned on having you sleep in here.” He had liked having someone to snuggle next to. “You did all your chores and cleaned everything really good!” He wasn't sure if his Mum or even his Father were going to come check on the progress of his slave's work.

John smiled and turn a little bit red at the compliment. Those were rare at his old house. His dad was fair, but he was a hard worker that wanted John to be tough too. "Thank you." He popped a potato into his mouth. "I don't really want to go downstairs. I don't know anyone down there and they don't seem to like me already.

Sherlock smiled but it turned into a frown. "Well, they are just idiots." He ate some food and looked at John thoughtfully. "I like you," he admitted finally. He gave another smile. He liked having a friend, he decided. "You will need to take the dishes downstairs though and wash them. Just ignore anyone who is mean to you. Or tell me and I will take care of it!" He didn't like the thought of someone being mean to John.

"I like you, too." John decided, after finishing the last few bites of his food. He still missed home, but being with Sherlock so far hadn't been really bad. As long as Sherlock's parents began to like him, everything should be fine. Good even. He stacked up their plates when Sherlock was done and put them back on the tray he had been using all day. He suddenly wished he hadn't changed into pajamas yet. But it was late so no one should care right? "I will." He didn't think he would though. He wouldn't want to bug Sherlock with that stuff. "I'll be right back." He took the tray downstairs.

Sherlock got off the bed and picked out a book for them to read out of tonight. He picked another one about war, since John seemed the most interested about that last night. He got back on the bed and turned on the lamp on the night stand. He flipped through pages idly, while he waited for John to return.

John was stopped by an older slave on his way back up and scolded. Told him that she knew he had uniforms and he had better wear them throughout the house unless he wanted Master Holmes to punish him. John nodded and pulled out of the grip she had on his arm, telling her he wouldn't do it again. It wasn't her business anyway. He made it to Sherlock's room and got into the bed with him. "Do you want me to try to read to you?" he asked.

Sherlock looked up from the book with a smile when John returned. "Okay. Mycroft used to read to me before he left me." While he was bitter about feeling abandoned, it was obvious he looked up to his older brother. He handed the book to John and snuggled near his slave's shoulder so he could help with any words John had trouble with.

John held the book in front of him and began to read slowly. He was able to read most of the words jut find after half a second, but a few of them tripped him up. Like establishment, company, and artillery. But reading like this was fun and he felt like he was learning a lot. He wished he could have a book just on guns and tanks, but this one was good too. He let out of yawn and covered his mouth with his hand.

Sherlock listened to quietly, reading along with John. He thought about helping his friend along with some of the words, but John managed to stumble through them okay. The sound of John's voice was comforting to him and his eyes slowly started closing. He turned into his friend a bit more, face buried in John's shoulder as he fell asleep.

John kept reading for another few minutes, getting to almost the end of the first chapter. He yawned again and stumbled across a word that he had never seen before. He turned a little to ask Sherlock what it meant, but Sherlock was asleep. John was a little surprised, and set the book down gently on the night stand. He laid Sherlock down and patted his hair, before curling up next to him and falling asleep minutes later.


	7. Chapter 7

The years went by fairly quickly. John remained at his side, even when he started eating and sleeping less. And overall, spent less time with his slave. Sherlock became increasingly more interested in his studies and experiments, than playing as each year passed. John was a great slave, though. Always doing everything asked without complaint. Even things like getting his mobile out of his pocket, while he as busy looking down a microscope and too busy writing down notes to be bothered to reach into the inside pocket of the coat he wore. He learned more about being master, from his Father but didn't have as strict standards. Maybe he was letting their friendship get in the way of that. But sod it. He legally owned John now and could do what he wanted. He had the slave's papers, proving ownership. He had gotten them when he was sixteen and now he was almost seventeen.

Sherlock would be going to Uni soon and he planned on taking John with him. Lately he had been distracted and upon reading a book about growing older, realized it had something to do with puberty and hormones. He was getting curious about sex but he tried to ignore the unwanted urges. He had more important things to do. He found himself the most distracted when John was around, so he thought maybe avoiding his slave would be better. At least until the annoying feelings went away. He still remembered the promise he had made to his friend when they were kids and though technically as a master he had every right to request it he figured he owed John at least something for all the years of service to him. He could keep that promise, couldn't he? But he couldn't avoid his slave forever. He was currently in his room, going through the mundane process of filling out applications to universities, even though with his genius, the universities were begging for him to attend and tried to lure him in with scholarships. He didn't need the free ride of course, his parents were ridiculously rich.

While Sherlock was going over his application for Uni, John was sitting in the kitchen eating his fill of pastries. Sherlock had stopped eating, but at this point in his life John seemed to never stop. Mrs. Hudson, still the head of the kitchen staff, had grown a soft spot for John and never left him in short supply. She wasn't the only one. After a few weeks of him first being here the other slaves had started to warm up to him. Some of the adults treated him kindly and he made a few friends or acquaintances among the kids. He still spent most of his time with Sherlock, well up until a few months ago. Sherlock had started ignoring John, but John didn't really mind at this point. It gave him more free time to do... other things. John had notice Sherlock was all but celibate, but he didn't think he master had noticed the same could not be said for John.

One of John's 'acquaintances' Mary, practically ran into the kitchen. She dumped her cleaning water into the large sink and made eye contact with John across the room. "Hey John, you going to help me put my things away, again?" She asked, cleaning her hands quickly on her skirt. John popped the rest of his pastry into his mouth and got up. He followed her to the cleaning closet, and then followed her inside of it. She had just dropped her bucket when John pushed her gently against the wall and pressed their mouths together. He and Mary had fooled around a few times now. She wasn't bad to talk to at dinner, which John occasionally ate with the other slaves now, and she knew how to be discreet so they wouldn't get caught. Except for now, since she was apparently trying to leave a large bruise on the side of his neck.

John pushed her back gently. "Don't. Sherlock will see." John didn't have an exact reason why, but he really didn't want his master to know what he got up to in his off time. Mary ignored him and went in to kiss his neck again. "What does he care? I know where you are sensitive." She teased, her voice going up a little at the end. John's knees nearly buckled and gave in, reaching down to lift Mary's skirt. It was only a few minutes later someone knocked loudly on the door and Mary jumped far away. She began to laugh and opened the door to a very angry older slave. "Sorry, sir." She pulled down her skirt and walking away. "See you later, John." She called over her shoulder, leaving him slumped against the wall.

John blushed sheepishly at the older slave, who would only shake his head and grab the broom he needed. John stepped out and checked the time on his cheap watch. It was nearly six. God he was already hungry again. He stepped back into the kitchen and grabbed two plates of food for him and Sherlock, wondering if Sherlock would tell him to leave again. He hoped not. He really wanted to know where he was going to be living in a few months. He went upstairs and kicked opened the door with his feet. He set the food on the table Sherlock had finally gotten and went over to look over Sherlock's shoulder. He set a friendly hand in his master's hair and ruffled it a bit. "I don't know why you apply at all. Why don't you just have Mycroft call whichever one you want to go to?"

Shit. Was it dinner time already? Sherlock knew it was John, based on the footsteps and the fact that no one else would kick the door open so carelessly. The hand in his hair made him pause in his writing and he tried to ignore that stirring sensation he felt from any sort of contact from John. “We aren't kids anymore,” he growled out through clenched teeth. He was mad and frustrated with himself but it was just easier to take it out on his slave. His ever observant gaze didn't miss the mark on John's neck. “Making good use of your time I see.” He rolled his eyes and huffed his obvious disapproval. Was...he jealous? That was ridiculous of course, at leas that was what he told himself. “And I am not going to rely on Mycroft for this. He can't coddle me my whole life.”

John ignored Sherlock's first comment as he went and sat at the own table, already digging into his food. Sherlock could be so moody at times, but it came and went. In two days he would be asking John to massage his scalp for him. If John brought it up then Sherlock would just go on about John's bad timing. He looked up from his food as Sherlock's second comment. He turned red and covered his mark with his hand. Shit, why did he feel so guilty? All of Sherlock's things were as clean as always and Sherlock never wanted him around now. "Sorry. I have to have something to do while you're sulking away up here." He tried to brush off the guilty feeling. "And you should at least take a break to eat. If I send Mrs. Hudson another untouched plate she's going to scold for for not taking care of you."

Sherlock wasn't able to hold things back anymore, not after months of suppressed feelings and thoughts. “My sulking is all your fault!” He knocked the neat stacks on the desk to the floor in a childish fit. “I'm not hungry! Feed it to Mummy's dog, if you are so worried about your arse getting in trouble from some old woman.” He couldn't stay in the room anymore. He got up, shoving the chair he was sitting in toppled over. “Make sure you clean this mess up before you go running off with some whore again.” He slammed the door shut as he left the room, not feeling a bit better at all. He ignored some of the stares he got from his outburst and decided to go outside for some air.

John stared blankly at his food. What the hell had that been? Sherlock had started telling him to leave. Sure he had been avoiding him for nearly six months now. But what the fuck had that been? "Sherlock!" He yelled, getting up and nearly knocking over the chair he was sitting in and running out of the bedroom. He followed Sherlock down the stairs, ignoring anyone who looked at him funny. "Get the hell back here." He was getting pretty worked up himself. Sherlock was his master but they were suppose to be friends. Now he was saying his sulking was John's fault and throwing things on the floor. "You can't just yell at me without saying what I've done wrong. C'mon, talk to me."

Sherlock was still in his rage when he spun to face John. “I can do anything I want. I am the master and you are nothing but a slave. Know your place!” He snapped before he could stop the words. Jesus. He was being an idiot. They were supposed to be friends and throwing a fit wasn't solving anything at all. If anything, he was making things worse. He sighed. “Just...leave me alone right now John...” He let out a slow breath, as he fought to calm down. “Look, I know I've been a bit...unbearable prick lately...and I at least owe you an explaination, but just not right now. I can't...not when I'm...” He gestured to himself. “...like this...” He was still pissed off but somehow he had managed to calm down enough to not yell at John.

John stopped in his tracks when Sherlock spun around on him. His retort shot through him like an arrow. Nothing but a slave. The words rattled in his head and he started to feel a bit sick. He had been telling himself that whatever Sherlock was going through he was going to grow out of it. But what if it wasn't that. What if Sherlock had simply outgrown him. He had heard stories from other slaves. Childhood companions who were let to hang as soon as their masters were old enough to leave the house. Did Sherlock even intend on taking John to uni with him? He had always assumed, but now...now he didn't know. He barely heard Sherlock trying to make up for what he had said but it was probably too late. "It's fine," John said, his voice coming out stiff. "You are right. You're the master and you don't have to explain anything. I'll go clean the mess." He turned around and heading back up the stairs.

Pride and arrogance stopped Sherlock from running after John and apologizing. He sighed and when his slave was gone from his sight, he found the nearest wall and slid down it. He had really fucked things up now, hadn't he? He had seen the look on John's face because of his stupid and careless words. Guilt wasn't something he felt very often, but it washed over him now. Was it too late now? Would John even want to go with him to Uni now? Of course, he could order his slave to accompany but maybe it would best to just leave John behind. He couldn't hide forever and he wanted to try and fix, what he hoped wasn't a broken friendship. He went back up the stairs and to his room. His Father had told that a strong master never apologized to a slave, but John wasn't _just_ a slave. He was his friend. The only one he still had. “John...I...” He cleared his throat. “...I'm sorry...”

John had finished cleaning Sherlock's small mess and was eating when Sherlock entered the room. In fact he had finished eating his plate and had started working on Sherlock's because hey, what did it fucking matter if Sherlock didn't care and wasn't going to eat it himself? He might as well enjoy his last few weeks as a companion slave before they gave him some other job. God he hoped it wasn't house cleaning. Anything was better than house cleaning. He did it for Sherlock, but he didn't want to do it for the whole house. He dropped his fork like it was hot when Sherlock entered the room, wondering if his master had changed his mind. He had figured he would have the plates clean before Sherlock even came back in. "Sorry, I didn't think you were gonna-" He was stopped by the sound of Sherlock clearing his throat. And apologizing. He didn't apologize to anyone. He hadn't apologized to John since they were kids and Sherlock's dad had told him to cut it out and beat John like a proper slave. And then John had gotten punished for fighting with Sherlock in the first place. "Sorry for what?" He asked, wondering what Sherlock was trying to accomplish.

Sherlock hadn't noticed John was eating his food and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. "Sorry for being a fucking twat." He frowned in thought. "Being around you...is...hard for me..." He shrugged. "You made me promise once I wouldn't make you a pleasure slave. Its why I have been avoiding you or sending you away. I thought it would just go away after awhile. Obviously it didn't. When I saw the mark, I got jealous and angry." God, he was rambling now wasn't he? He sighed. "Just spending time with you is enough to make me...want break that promise. And Jesus John, any kind of touch..." He trailed off with another shrug and decided he should just stop talking before he looked anymore foolish.

"A fucking twat," John repeated, half in agreement and half wanting to laugh at Sherlock's choice of words. He had been a fucking twat for months, did he actually realize it? That was a lot of more self aware than Sherlock usually was about anything. He didn't expect Sherlock to actually explain himself either, but here he was. John felt his mouth drop more and more as Sherlock explained what the 'issue' was. "You are attracted to me," he said flat out, since Sherlock didn't seem to be able. Sherlock Holmes was attracted to him. That was...kind of funny. Hilarious in a way actually. John couldn't help but start to chuckle. "You've been acting like a twat because I've been giving you boners." He found it funnier by the second. It wasn't the most sympathetic John had ever been, but it was a bit of a relief to know why Sherlock had been acting this way. Not to mention it was still funny. Sherlock wasn't attracted to anyone and now he was admitting his crush on John.

Right then. John was laughing and poking fun at him. He must have been some kind of idiot to have even have said anything in the first place. "I think it would be best if you didn't come to Uni with me," Sherlock said after awhile. He turned and left the room without another word because with every laugh he felt worse and worse. He had done everything he could think of to keep the promise he made and all it had gotten him was mocked. He was mad at himself all over again, his cheeks flushed with anger.

John stopped laughing and got up quickly. God Sherlock was a sensitive creature. No one would never think so with that hard shell he wore constantly, to the point that even John forgot how easy he could have his fingers hurt. "Sherlock wait." Luckily Sherlock wasn't going too fast and he was able to grasp his wrist and hold him. His master had never really gotten that much stronger from when they were kids, but John had only gotten stronger with time. "I didn't mean to laugh, but c'mon. Picking on your crush is what you do when you're just a kid." He tried to show Sherlock just how ridiculous it was. He thought for a minute before saying his next statement. He wasn't just going to come out and say he was okay with being a pleasure slave, because that wasn't true. "I'll listen now. Tell me what you want and we can talk, okay?" He hoped to give Sherlock just a little bit of hope.

Sherlock tried to pull away from the touch but John had always been a bit stronger than him. So, he turned around to face his slave, eyes narrowed. "The time for talking is over. I can't let you keep distracting me. I will have arrangements made with my Father to have you sold off to someone who can use you. I have no further use for you."

 "You're gonna sell me?" John asked. His voice was full of disbelief. He felt like he was going to throw up or panic, which ever came first. "No Sherlock. C'mon. You're not going to do that." He tried to convince himself more than Sherlock. He gripped his master's hand even tighter, now holding it with both of his hands. "You were going to talk to me. What were you going to say? We can work this out." His voice got louder and more desperate with each word. He didn't want to be sold. He could end up somewhere horrible. He could end up in a sweat shop or a fucking brothel and Sherlock wouldn't be able to stop any of it. He knew he was seconds away from begging, but he couldn't be sold. He would get down on his knees if it meant that didn't happen.

Sherlock sighed. He couldn't really get rid of John....could he? He had actually become quite dependent on his slave. Would he even be able to function without John? That was a bit unnerving to think about...and yet strangely comforting. He supposed in a way they were codependent on each other but for entirely different reasons. He glanced down at their hands and the back up to John's face. "Fine, you can stay but John....I don't think I will be able to keep my hands off of you if you do." He forced a smirk.

John visibly relaxed in relief. He still felt a bit one edge, but better now. Had it just been a false threat so he would give into being Sherlock's pleasure slave? He knew Sherlock could be that manipulative, but he didn't think his master was going to do it to him. He breathed in and forced himself to work up some nerve. As worried as he was he couldn't just be some doormat to Sherlock. Not over something like this. "Don't say things like that. We still need to talk about this." He realized he hadn't actually told Sherlock yes.

Sherlock sighed again. What the hell was there to talk about? To him it was simple yes or no situation. And John hadn't agreed. His slave hadn't been wanted to use for sex for as long as he had known John. "What is there to talk about? You either will or won't." Would he ever get so selfish he would just order John to do it?

"I might," John said. He looked around quickly. He didn't want to talk about this in the hall. He had dealt with the rumors enough times before, he didn't want to think what people would run off and say if they over heard the conversation that was about to happen. "Can't we talk about this in your room?" he asked, trying to pull Sherlock back inside.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. Might? He had expected a flat out no. He let John pull him back into his room and closed the door behind him. He didn't care about the rumors anymore but apparently his slave did. He supposed the gossip affected John far more than him. "Might....what do you mean by that?"

John sat on the bed once he was inside Sherlock's room. He had started to find it ridiculous that him and Sherlock still slept in the same bed, but he had never cared enough to protest. "I mean I might. I just-" He cut himself off and thought. It was stupid what he was about to ask really. With him and Mary (and a few other girls and one boy. What they all got around?) it was always just a quick thing. Hand jobs, fingering, and oral in the closets with no attachments or chances of pregnancies. "Do you just want sex?" He asked, not even sure if Sherlock would understand the question.

Oh. That was what John wanted to talk about. Sherlock shrugged. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "I don't know. I guess I am bit curious about everything. I had Mycroft buy me a few books, so I wouldn't be totally clueless. I haven't tried anything other than the occasional wank in the shower, that's about it." It was clear he wasn't shy talking about sex. Modesty wasn't really a trait of his.

John shook his head. "That's not what I mean,” he said a bit urgently. He scratched the back of his head and tried to sort it out in his own head before trying to explain it to Sherlock. "I mean, we're already friends so we're already breaking any sort of master and slave formalities." He explained, trying not to make it sound like a bad thing. While being Sherlock's friend sometimes made his life more difficult, John wouldn't have traded it for anything. "Pleasure slaves are usually just someone who takes care of their master's needs. There's not supposed to be a connection. That obviously can't happen with us."

Well, that hadn't occurred to Sherlock either. He frowned in thought. Maybe John had a point. Why was this all so complicated all the sudden? He had just wanted some sort of sexual release, because it was driving him crazy. More specifically John was driving him crazy, but he had never put much thought into _why._ Emotions were irrational and he tried not to dwell on them too much and altogether wanted to get rid of them from his life. Sometimes it didn't work out that well. “I was hoping this was some sort of teenage phase that I could get over with a few shaggings. I never thought about any sort of connection that might come with it.”

John thought about Sherlock's answer for a moment. It would be pretty presumptuous of him to think that Sherlock would develop feelings for him. Once John had grown up a little (and realized he didn't care what the person sucking his dick had under their pants as long as they did it) he had thought about Sherlock only for all of about two weeks. Then he realized how stupid he was being and cast those thoughts away as quickly as he could. But they should be able to keep this casual. He still didn't want to be a pleasure slave, but as long as Sherlock wasn't fucking anyone else he could be okay with it. "So you want to be friends with benefits?" He finally asked.

“If calling it something else makes you more agreeable to it, then fine.” Sherlock shrugged. He wasn't entirely sure what 'friends with benefits' entailed but as long as they fucked at some point, he really didn't care. Jesus. When had he let his thoughts become so rampant? He had tried to discipline himself into staying away from such distracting thoughts but now John might be agreeing to it, all the discipline in the world couldn't shut his mind off anymore.

"You're not taking this very seriously," John mumbled. He meant that Sherlock wasn't taking him very seriously, but he wasn't going to just come out and say that. He sighed and made his decision. If something went south he could always force Sherlock to talk about it. His master wasn't cruel. He had never made John do anything he really didn't want to do. If John told him he just wanted to be a normal slave again he was sure Sherlock would listen. "Fine, I'm agreeable." He stood up and crossed the room. He supposed he would have to break it off with the others. Come up with some excuse. He walked over to Sherlock and put his on Sherlock's neck, rubbing his jaw line with his thumb. "So you said just a touch does what?" He asked, a smirk on his face.

Sherlock smirked, quite pleased with John's agreement. He was about to say something but all words and coherent thoughts ceased to exist when his slave touched him in the most pleasing way. He closed his eyes, head tilting slightly. “It...uh...” Jesus. It was worse than he thought. He cleared his throat and tried to speak once more. “It...is maddening...I don't....” He faltered again but recovered this time. “...I don't understand how a mere touch can affect anyone like this.”

John continued to smirk. If he had known he had gained this sort of power over Sherlock he would have tried to exploit it months ago. His master tilted his head and John took the opening. He moved his hand to the back of Sherlock's neck, just barely gabbing on and tugging on his hair. He leaned in and kissed Sherlock's neck, dragging his lips against his master's skin until he was right by his ear. "Maybe I'm just that attractive." His other hand reached to hold Sherlock's hip.

Sherlock didn't have a comeback this time. It wasn't often he was unable to think or speak but there were so many touches to focus on at the moment. The hair pull. God, that was quite the turn on. Lips on his neck. A hand on his hip. Should he be doing something? Sod it, John was paying attention to him in the most wonderful way and he was going to enjoy whatever he could get out of it. “Please,” he heard himself beg, suddenly not caring about the master and slave relationship. All he knew was he wanted _more_ of whatever was happening to him.

John waited for just a moment to hear Sherlock's answer. He expected a scoff or a snort. He didn't expect a please. His grip in Sherlock's hair tightened just a bit and so did the hand was was holding his hip. "Of course," he said, pulling back from Sherlock and letting his lips drag across his skin again. He used his grip on Sherlock's neck to pull him down just slightly. He had gotten so tall in the past few years and had outgrown John by the time he was fifteen. He had never filled out either, leaving him as skinny as always. He tilted his head and pushed their lips together gently, wanting to enjoy the first taste of Sherlock he had. He pulled back a little and then did it again, his tongue quickly tracing Sherlock's bottom lip.

Sherlock took in every touch and just how strong the grip was in every location. Despite the sensory overload, he was trying to analyze everything happening in attempt to understand it. He soon found his lips on his John's and found he quite liked that. He tentatively returned the second kiss, not really knowing what the hell he was doing so he tried to just copy whatever his slave did. It was obvious he was enjoying the way things were going, because his blood flow was rushing to his cock and he could feel it getting harder and without much thought pressed it into John with a soft moan of pleasure from the friction.

John smiled against Sherlock's mouth as his master tried to return the kiss. His lack of experience was obvious but John found he didn't mind. It was nice to be the experienced one in something for a change. He had been chasing Sherlock's coat tails for years. He moved his lips against Sherlock's again, his tongued pressing against the seam of his lips trying to push them over. He was surprised when he felt Sherlock grind against him, already hard. He hadn't thought about that being a side effect of Sherlock's inexperience. He held his grip on Sherlock's hip hard as he pushed his leg in between Sherlock's. He pressed up once before pulling away. Hopefully Sherlock didn't want to end this too soon.

Sherlock parted his lips and continued to try and follow John's lead with...well everything. It was a bit overwhelming but in the most satisfying way possible. This was much better than anything he had ever fantasied about in the shower. With a bit self control, he managed to calm down and not rush things. He wanted the first time to last, so he could savor and catalogue everything into his mind palace to revisit anytime he fancied. So, he continued to let John control everything and did his best to mimic what he could.

John's tongue pushed into Sherlock's mouth slowly, sliding against his gums and flicking against his master's tongue, encouraging Sherlock to try to do the same. The hand that had been on Sherlock's hip went to his arse, squeezing it gently and coming up to rest on the small of Sherlock's back. God he would love to fuck Sherlock. To have him on his back and spread open. He had never had anyone like that. The chances of a pregnancy were to much to risk doing it with a girl and it wasn't like slaves were able to get lube whenever they wanted. But he would love to see Sherlock like that, even more desperate. But probably not today. Or ever. It would be odd for a slave to do that to his master. He broke away from Sherlock completely and went to undo the buttons on his shirt. "Let's get you to the bed, yeah?' He made quick work of Sherlock's shirt.


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock continued to imitate what John did, his tongue curiously moving around in his slave's mouth. And more new touches. Jesus. Why was everything feeling so amazing? He was panting by the time John moved away and he took a moment to answer. “Oh God yes,” he agreed readily when he was able to. He helped remove the shirt as he moved toward the bed, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. He laid down on it, reaching out to tug his slave on top of him eagerly.

John smiled at Sherlock's eagerness. He straddled his master and sat up on top of him. He began to undo his own shirt, slowly revealing more skin as he undid each button. He smirked down at Sherlock, who already looked frazzled and overwhelmed. Good. "To think you've been acting like a prat just to avoid having sex with me." He ground down on Sherlock's cock as he finished undoing his shirt and throwing it to the side. "You are really ridiculous you know that?" He leaned over Sherlock and put his hands on either side of his head.

Sherlock writhed up into John as soon as his slave was on top of him. It appeared his self control from before was gone. He smirked a bit. “Less talking...more...” He trailed off and gestured at both of them. Aesthetic beauty wasn't something he paid attention to but he stared up at John in admiration. Toned muscles. A bit of a tan. He had seen his slave shirtless before, but never from this vantage point. He reached out a hand and trailed it over his slave's exposed chest, fingertips gliding over the skin lightly. There was so many things he wanted to try with John but he really didn't know where to start. His slave seemed to have a good idea of what to do, so he decided to be content with just following John's lead.

John arched his neck up as Sherlock trailed his hands down his chest. His hands were barely touching him and John wanted to to yell at him for being a tease. If he was going to do that he could at least make it worth something. But he didn't. He was just waited until Sherlock put his hands back down. He leaned down and kissed Sherlock, pressing them chest to chest. "Whatever you say, sir." He gave a smirk, pulling away for just a moment before pressing into Sherlock's mouth again.

Sherlock mumbled something incoherent into the kiss at John's remark. He was too focused on more important things to care about being called 'sir' at the moment. He wrapped his arms his slave, at the waist, to help hold John in place on top of him. He was quite curious what else they were going to do but he was enjoying the snogging far too much to break the kiss and ask. He started to breath through his nose, short, hot bursts of air blowing onto John's neck because he was just too stubborn to let their lips part.

John deepened the kiss himself, not surprised at how quick Sherlock was catching on. He grabbed Sherlock's hair and just held it, letting Sherlock feel the pull every time he tried to move his head. He normally wouldn't, but Sherlock seemed to like it. Oh god, how had he learned to use his tongue quickly? He was starting to get hard and the images in his head were only speeding things along. He imagined Sherlock on his knees, his lips wrapped around John's cock, suckling on the tip. He pulled back and groaned into Sherlock's neck, breathing hard and grinding once into his master. They hadn't even gotten their trousers off. "Where do you want this to go?" He asked into Sherlock's ear. He was in charge in a way and John needed to know what Sherlock expected of him.

More hair pulling. Sherlock arched up into John in response. He found he enjoyed that more than the snogging they were doing. That was an excellent question. He honestly wasn't sure what he wanted to try first. He supposed they should probably get each other off at some point. It was obvious his slave was enjoying things as well, and that made him smirk proudly. “Suck me off,” he finally answered. They wouldn't be able to shag their first time, that much he knew based on what he had read in the books Mycroft had procured for him. It was disappointing but he hadn't exactly been prepared or expecting this to ever happen.

John managed not to frown at the order. He really shouldn't be disappointed at all figuring what he had just been imagining. "Okay." He managed a smirk. He moved down to sit in between Sherlock's leg. He stopped once to suxk briefly on one of Sherlock's nipples, just to see how he reacted. The order had cause the worse things to come into his mind though. Was Sherlock planning on just having John suck him off and then leave John to take care of himself? It would be totally in his right to do so. John undid Sherlock's trousers button and zipper and then pulled then down to his thighs. He put his hands on either side of Sherlock's waist and lowered himself on all fours. He licked Sherlock's cock through the thin fabric of his pants, tasting the small wet spot there.

Sherlock closed his eyes, whimpering in anticipation at the removal of his trousers. Bloody tease. He bucked up into John, his body demanding more attention. It was probably rude to try and fuck someone's mouth but right now he didn't care. He wanted to feel and experience new things. If snogging and simple friction from trousers was enough to make him hard, then he could only begin to fathom what it feel like to have John's mouth around his cock.

John's hands flew to Sherlock's hips. He didn't want to get face fucked right now, thank you very much. He hadn't even gotten Sherlock's pants down. He lifted his hands and hitched his thumbs in the hem of Sherlock's pants. He pulled them down  with his trousers, and Sherlock's cock sprang out hard. He reached and stroked it once, bending over and licking the very top. It had never been the best taste, but he found he could stomach it a bit better now. He let go and licked the underside of his cock, taking his time and teasing a bit. He put his hands on Sherlock's hips to hold him down before taking the head of his cock into to his mouth. He looked up at Sherlock to make sure this was okay.

Christ. More teasing. But all be damned if he wasn't enjoying it. “Jesus John,” Sherlock muttered. He seemed to get the hint by the hands on his hips, and he forced himself to keep that part of his body still. He couldn't just do _nothing_ though. He thought about reaching down and try pulling John's hair, but it was too short. He settled for tangling his fingers in the sheets below him. He opened his eyes and glanced down to his slave, noticing John had stopped. He saw the questioning look and he nodded. He decided to watch, so he could file away more things for him to remember about this experience.

Sherlock nodded and John kept his hands firm on his master's hips. He started to suck on the tip, swirling his tongue while he was at it. He had only done this once before, but he knew what he liked. Sherlock couldn't be that different. He bobbed down and took as much of Sherlock's cock into his mouth as he could as once, sucking hard before pulling back to just the tip. His tongue licked the under in a long stripe on the way up and John could taste more precum on his tongue. He focused on the movement and actions pushing Sherlock's foreskin back and licking the sensitive slit.

Fuck. Where had John learned all these wonderful things? Or was because he was experiencing it for the first time, that it felt so damn good? Sherlock ended up dropping his head back down on the mattress, trying to resist the urge to buck up against the hands on his hips. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to last long, considering he had been hard before they had even gotten on the bed. That and he hadn't gotten off that many times before.

John had stopped feeling any sort of resistance on his hands so he let go of Sherlock's hips. He used one hand to compensate for what he couldn't get into his mouth, stroking the base of Sherlock's cock. The other he pressed into the bed, using it for leverage to keep it up. John started to bob his head while he sucked, effectively letting Sherlock fuck his mouth without the abuse and gagging that would usually come with the act. He would stop to focus on the head for a bit and then suck the rest of his length, using his tongue and just a touch of teeth to pleasure Sherlock the best he could. He pulled off Sherlock's cock completely and stroked him with his hand. With his mouth he licked and then sucked each of Sherlock's bollocks, just to see if they were sensitive.

It was hard to concentrate on any one source of pleasure at this rate. It wasn't a complaint by any means but it made it hard for Sherlock to focus on keeping his hips still, especially when there were no longer hands in place as a reminder. His body did end up squirming a bit, and his fingers curled tighter into the sheets, knuckles turning white. Although John was doing all the work, his breathing became a little more erratic and thready. It wasn't long after that he came with a long moan of pleasure. Christ. That had been far better than any simple jerk off in the shower. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to get his breathing under control.

John was sucking on as much of Sherlock's length as he could when he felt Sherlock tense up. He tried not to sputter as Sherlock's come filled his mouth and went down his throat. He swallowed once around Sherlock's cock and then pulled off the now limp flesh. John laid his head on Sherlock's thigh. His breathing was heavy and he brought a hand up to rub his now aching jaw. He was still hard himself and it had taken most of his self control to not rut into the bed while he had been sucking Sherlock off. John got up on his knees and started to wank right in between Sherlock's legs. He just needed to get off now and he really didn't care who's hand it was.

Sherlock finally glanced down to John, watching his slave wank. There was something very...pleasing about that. If he hadn't just gotten off, he was certain he would have been turned on by the sight. He reached a hand down and ran it through John's hair. He still craved contact. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to get enough of it from his slave. Especially if it all felt that amazing.

John lifted his head up at the touch and couldn't help but smile at the sight before him. His master looked so debauched and fucked. And he had done that. He couldn't help but smirk to himself, and think of a way to add to the picture. He stopped wanking and moved up so he was straddling Sherlock again right above his cock. He was up on his knees and put one hand by Sherlock's head so he was leering over him. He leaned forward and kissed Sherlock as he began to wank again with the other hand. He grunted into the kiss and stroked himself faster, thinking of how Sherlock was going to look with John's come all over his chest.

Jesus. What was happening shouldn't be so hot, but God he was enjoying it. Sherlock returned the kiss readily, not as tentative as before. His confidence was growing. One hand unfurled from the sheets and he placed the hand over his slave's that was pumping the cock. He was trying to memorize the speed and grip for later use. His thumb moved to the slit, rubbing it bit. Mostly out of curiosity that anything. He found, he wanted to know every inch of John's body.

John rocked his hips into his hand as he kissed Sherlock. His master was growing more bold and John figured it wouldn't be long before his dominant personality came out and took away any semblance that John was the one in charge. Not today though. Today Sherlock was his and he was going to enjoy it. He moaned at the unexpected feeling of Sherlock's thumb on the head of his cock. Sherlock teased the slit and he started to pant. He had already been so hard and so close and now Sherlock was touching him, actually had his hands on him, and it was on that thought that John came, his spunk pumping out onto Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock watched John climax in complete and utter fascination. He didn't seem to care there was a mess all over his chest. The hand that had been helping his slave stroke the cock moved over to the sticky white substance. He dipped a finger in it and brought it to his face. He sniffed it curiously before licking it off. Not terrible just a bit salty.

John had both hands by Sherlock's head. He was barely holding himself up, breathing deeply and enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. That was more than he would have hoped for that was for sure. He felt Sherlock moved and opened his eyes just in time to see Sherlock licking John's come off his fingers. He let out a surprised noise that might have been a moan if he hadn't been so high. He flipped himself over and laid down next to Sherlock, still panting a bit. "You think that will help?"

Sherlock smirked. “Yes. That...John...that was amazing.” And it had been. “I want to experience more tomorrow. We are going into town and shopping. We'll make it quick, you know how much I hate shopping.” When he hadn't been too distracted by everything going on, he had memorized everything about what he and John had done. He should probably shower but that would mean moving and he wasn't quite ready to do that.

John couldn't help but glow a bit at the praise. At least he hadn't disappointed him or sent Sherlock further into his self imposed life of celibacy. He chuckled at his master's technical language. Wanted to 'experience' more. Couldn't just damn say he wanted to have sex again. "I'll check my schedule." He gave a laugh and turned slightly so he was facing Sherlock now. His faced screwed up a bit in confusion. "Why are we going shopping?"

Sherlock smirked. “To get things to experiment with of course. Those books Mycroft had given me were actually quite fascinating. I didn't know there were so many possibilities when being intimate with someone. And of course get lubrication so we can shag.” He was determined to try everything he had read about at least once.

To experiment with? They both had cocks, hands, and tongues. What else could they possibly need? Did free-people buy things to use during sex? That seemed a bit excessive and ridiculous. With the exception of lubricant, which John could fully see the need for figuring the type of relationship he was in. "For the record," he started, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Sherlock, "what we just did still counts as shagging."

Sherlock shrugged. “Yes, I suppose it was.” He really needed to clean up and he sat up slowly. “I am going to shower.” He finally got off the bed and grabbed his robe. “John, change the sheets on the bed and wash those. And bring me my pajamas.” He left his room and walked across the hall to his bathroom. He closed the door but didn't lock it. He dropped the robe on the floor, turned the water as hot as it would go and then got inside.

"Should I dress you too, sir?" John yelled and teased as his master walked into the bathroom. Sherlock's dad said he was disrespectful, but he knew he never even came close to giving Sherlock the crap that he gave him. John pulled himself up and grabbed Sherlock's shirt, using it to wipe himself down and hopefully remove any traces of what had just happened. He redressed and gathered up Sherlock's discarded clothes and pulled the sheets off. He placed out a set of his master's pajamas right outside the bathroom door so he wouldn't forget them and carried the dirty linens downstairs so he could throw them in the wash.

Sherlock had heard John's remark and rolled his eyes but a smirk tugged at his lips. He didn't mind that his slave was a bit mouthy at times. His Father was constantly telling him he was too lenient with John but he didn't care. His Father couldn’t do anything about it now that he had John's papers though. And with going away to Uni, he could honestly care less about what his old man thought. For awhile, he just stood under the spray before he finally started cleaning up. He turned the water off, stepped out and dried off with a clean towel. The hamper was right next to him, but he let it fall to the floor by the robe. John could pick it up for him when he was done in here. Why do any work when he had a slave to do it for him?

John put the dirty linens in the washer and picked up some new ones from the closet. He wondered if he would do being the sheets everyday from now on. That was going to become very tedious very fast. He sighed and trotted up the stairs quickly. He pulled the sheets on the bed quickly and did the corners right like he had been taught. He had just finished putting the quilt back on when he heard the water turn off. He grabbed Sherlock's pajama's and opened the bathroom door, not surprised to find Sherlock stark naked. He had seen him that way many times, even before today. He put them on the counter and was about to close the door when he noticed the towel on the floor. He sighed and closed the door anyway. "It doesn't take any more effort to drop it in the hamper than it does to drop it on the floor."

Sherlock smirked and then shrugged. “Why bother when I have you to do everything for me?” He got dressed in the silk pajamas. He might actually sleep tonight. It had been a couple days and John had worn him out from all of their pleasing physical contact. He left the bathroom and went back to his room. He still had those damned Uni applications to go through but he could worry about them later. He picked up one of the books Mycroft had sent him and laid down on the bed to read more about sexual exploration.

John didn't bother to answer. He stood outside the door until Sherlock walked out without so much as a second glance at him. John tried not to huff and threw the towel into the hamper along with Sherlock's discarded robe. His master crawled into bed, but John looked around the room and noticed a few more things that needed doing. He moved all the furniture back to the right place and organized Sherlock's desk for him.

Sherlock could hear John working in his room, but continued to read the book. There were a lot of things he didn't even have to order his slave to do anymore. They just got done automatically. John was efficient and he'd had the slave long enough now, John just knew what to do for the most part. “John, did you know people use whips and chains on each other to help reach optimal sexual pleasure?” He glanced over the top of the book to look at his slave.

John had been putting Sherlock's books back on the shelf when his master spoke. He dropped the one he was holding. His brain nearly seized up at the word whips and chains wasn't a fun one either. John hadn't been whipped since Sherlock had gotten the rights to him a little over a year ago, but he still knew the pain. He had never been chained up before. Never done anything bad enough to deserve isolation like that. John bent down and picked up the book, turning to Sherlock abruptly. "Why the hell would they do that?" He choked out.

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at John's reaction but it didn't take long for him to piece together why. He shrugged. “I'm not sure. Apparently it has something to do with a dominant role taking control over a submissive one. There are all kinds of ways to enhance sexual performance and pleasure, you just have to figure out which ones work for you and which ones don't.”

"That one wouldn't work for me," John stated, not wanting to give Sherlock anything less than a full on refusal. His master could order him if he wanted too, but John was really hoping he would values John's opinion. At least when it came to intimacy, figuring he hardly valued John at all when it came to anything, much less his opinion. He finished putting the books away and declared the room clean. He went into the closet for his own pajamas.

“Yes, I figured.” It just hadn't been something Sherlock had considered until moments ago. “If you are done with your duties, come up here and look through this book with me. Maybe we can find something agreeable to both of us.” He wasn't usually so concerned with others feelings, but if wanted to keep John as a pleasure slave....friends with benefits...whatever his slave wanted to consider it then he needed to at least keep John happy he figured and then use that in his favor. It was win-win.

"Just a second." John tried not to let his obvious relief show. He changed into his pajamas quickly and put his clothes in the hamper without dropping them on the floor first. He sighed and slid into the bed next to Sherlock. He looked over his shoulder to see a diagram of a man tied up in a way that couldn't be comfortable. He started to read the description underneath, which explains the pros and cons of this particular way to tie up ones partner. John decided that all free-people were probably secret freaks.

Sherlock went back to reading while he waited. Once John was settled in next to him, he found himself moving a bit closer to his slave. He still needed the contact apparently. Jesus, was he always going to be so insatiable? He flipped a few pages ahead and stopped at a chapter entitled 'Sexual Role Plays.' He read the introduction, and it was basically what it sounded like. There were several examples some of them simple and others ridiculous, like one about a Mexican apple thief and a mistress who owned an apple orchard. Jesus. Was this an actual thing people fantasied about? So far, his had been really basic and all had involved John in one way or other.

John continued to read over Sherlock's shoulder. Thanks to all the lessons his master had given him, he could probably read better than any slave in the manor, though that was hardly fair figuring most of them had never had the chance to learn to read at all. He read the one about the apples and began to laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a big laugh. He leaned in closer to Sherlock, ready to read more of these ridiculous 'role plays' He got a giggle out of one about a teacher and a 'naughty' students. The next one surprised him though. Master and slave role play. How the hell was that even a thing? He supposed it went back to the dominant and submissive thing Sherlock had mentioned earlier. John couldn't figure out why anyone would choose to be subservient or submissive, even if it was just pretend. "See anything that interests you?" John asked, trying to scan and find another funny one.

“It all looks kind of boring to me. There is some interesting things in the sex toys section though.” Sherlock flipped towards the front of the book. He had already read it and knew what was there, but maybe something in there would catch John's interest. There were all kinds of things to choose from. Butt plugs, vibrators, strap-ons, ribbed condoms, smooth condoms, flavored lubricant, and just about anything imaginable made edible. “There is another chapter about kinks and fetishes, people like the strangest things. Like defecating on one in another or even in the mouth. We are _not_ doing anything like that.”

John thought about retching but decided getting up was to much the effort. "You can keep that chapter to yourself, thanks." He looked down at the 'sex toys.' There were a lot of what John could only describe as fake dicks. Not many of them actually looked like cocks and apparently some of them vibrated. He supposed he could see the point of that. For a woman anyway, John had never had anything up his arse before. He realized being with Sherlock meant that would probably happen soon. He felt himself shudder, whether with anticipation or fear he couldn't be sure. His eyes drifted to look at some anal beads and he wondered if there was anything people wouldn't put in their arse. It was astonishing.

Sherlock smirked a bit and he tossed the book to the ground. John had been on top of him before and he wanted to see what it was like. He rolled so he could pin his slave to the mattress. He wouldn't be able to get off again so soon, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself. The mark on John's neck from earlier made him made and jealous all over again. He was determined to mark his slave for himself, suddenly becoming possessive of John. He leaned down, wanting to suck and mark the other side of the neck to prove to everyone that this slave was _his._

John grunted when Sherlock rolled on top of him. He tried to push Sherlock up a little to give himself some room to move, but that didn't seem to be happening. He leaned up to kiss Sherlock, but his master had already leaned down and put his lips to his neck. John let out a moan as Sherlock sucked the side of his neck that didn't have a bruise yet. He didn't want to think of the names that would be thrown at him tomorrow. Especially when they figured out who he was sleeping with. He put his hands on Sherlock's side and tilted his head to give his master better access.

Once he was satisfied John had been properly marked, Sherlock lifted his head and stared down at John to eye his handiwork with a proud smirk. “Better.” His fit of jealousy seemed to pass quickly this time and he moved a bit so he was laying more snuggled into his slave's side than actually on top of John anymore. “I won't share you with anyone John. So whatever you have going on with anyone else is to be ended.”

John touched his neck and wondered how bad the mark was. There was no way any of his shirts were going to be able to cover this. "Yeah, I figured as much." He turned so Sherlock could better snuggle into him. It didn't surprise John that Sherlock would want to cuddle. He had been tactile like this for years. John frowned and thought quickly, and then mentally shrug. "You'll do the same for me?" He knew Sherlock didn't have anyone else, but one day he might.

“John, I'm not even interested in anyone in the least. So, I suppose so. If that should change, then I will relinquish you of our sexual relationship.” Sherlock found it extremely unlikely that would happen though. Everyone around him were idiots and he found them intolerable. Everyone but John of course. Maybe it was because his slave a bit bolder than most master's would allow, he found so...fascinating. “I think I may have changed my mind about not finding anything interesting in that book. It has to do with role play chapter. What if...we reversed the roles and you were the master? This wouldn't happen all the time because I'm determined to fuck you so hard you won't walk straight for the rest of the day but maybe sometimes. I...liked having you on top and just kind of doing what you were doing and letting you control it,” he admitted. God, if his Father ever found out he had suggested something like that _he'd_ be the one getting the beating.


	9. Chapter 9

Well that was a relief. Sort of. If Sherlock found someone else to be with that could free up John to find a wife and have a couple kids. And if he didn't, well John was already going to be attached to Sherlock all of his life anyway. "Sounds fair." His eyes snapped to Sherlock's face as his master started to talk about the book again. He really hoped this wasn't about the whips again, or pretty much anything else described in that book. But when Sherlock finished talking, John's mouth was open and he was gaping like a fish. He felt a small stirring in his stomach, even though he had just gotten off. "You want to do that?" His face lit up with surprise. He decided to ignore the whole fucked into the mattress thing for right now. "You want me to pretend to be your master. Like order you around and use you to get myself off?"

“Ever since I got you as a slave, I've been a bit curious what it is like to be you. What it means to be slave. Not the boring work part, but having being told what to do all the time. I think...it could make for an interesting experiment.” Sherlock was thoughtful for a moment. “You will be able to order me around to an extent, only for sexual purposes. You will not get away with trying to use me to do your job.” He trusted John not to order something demeaning or degrading. He had never done anything like to his slave, despite being an arse most of the time.

John rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Then what would I do?" He asked sarcastically. The rest of it didn't sound bad though. He wondered what Sherlock would let him do? Would he agree to give John oral? Or to let John fuck him? He figured he would want to fuck John first, since that's supposedly what the dominate person was supposed to be. He smirked and chuckled. "No I won't do that. I'll just put you on all fours and use you as a footstool." He couldn't help but laugh, trying to think of some of the more odd things that slaves had been asked to do. The Holmes bought quite a few every now and then and they always came with interesting stories. Well interesting as well as demeaning and horrible.

It was Sherlock's turn to roll his eyes. “If you abuse it, I will take it away from you.” He had been a bit surprised how turned on he had been, when John had been on top and he'd just followed his slave's lead. He wanted more of it. See just how demanding John could be. God, now he wished he hadn't gotten off already. He wanted to try this new thing  _now_ but it would have to wait until tomorrow he supposed. “Was there any toys or accessories you thought looked interesting to get when we go shopping?”

"Of course," John said, wondering if Sherlock would ever be able to take a joke. He supposed it was fine, as long as he never stopped asking John to stop making them. This much charismatic humor was not made to be bottled up. He still wasn't sure how far Sherlock wanted to take this role play thing, but he supposed he could figured it out when they got there. "They seemed to all be for anal." He gave a small shrug. There had been a few exceptions, like the cock ring. But to John that looked like torture. "I just can't understand why someone would put a vibrating cock in their arse. Or a bunch of beads either."

Sherlock laughed and shrugged. “I don't know. Flavored lube could be interesting. Did you know people rub things all over their bodies and have their partner lick it off of them?” That didn't sound too bad to him. He supposed they would be figuring things out together from this point on. Despite the fact his slave had fooled around with the other slaves, John seemed to be just as clueless about things in the book as he was.

John once again scrunched up his nose in confusion. He would have to get a hold of this book and read it later. If anything he might be able to get a few good laughs out of it. "What kind of things?" He tried to imagine licking anything off Sherlock. He could imagine licking him though. He had already licked his cock but there were other places. His neck, his chest, maybe even his hole if Sherlock was interested in that. Surely his book had mentioned that.

Sherlock shrugged. “Foods, like jam or whipped cream. Things like that.” He was in a much better mood than he had been in months. It was amazing to him that it had been so simply satisfied with a few strokes of his cock and other touches from John. Should it concern him that his slave had that kind of power over him? Probably, but he had enjoyed it.

"Interesting." John tried to think of what that would be like. He didn't think that would be too bad. He brought up a hand and rested it on Sherlock, slowly stroking his side. He decided he liked this. The laying around after wards, being allowed to touch. He never got this before. Quickies in closets didn't really make cuddling afterwards a possible. "What else sounds interesting to you?"

Sherlock leaned into the touch a bit, his body relaxed against John. His slave was rather comfortable he decided. He thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “Not much, there are some things that look interesting but uncomfortable. Well, there are some positions that could be fun. If I recall correctly, one is called doggy style. One is on all fours while the other fucks them from behind, basically.”

John coughed and shifted a bit, continuing to stroke Sherlock's side and now his back. He wanted to lift up his shirt and stroke his skin, but he supposed that would come across like an invitation. "I know what doggy style is." He knew a number of positions. That was one thing slaves boys would talk about. How they were going to fuck a girl next time they got a chance. Few ever did. Can't get condoms and really can't get a girl pregnant. Just not worth it. "Who's on all fours in this situation?"

Sherlock gave a quick, quiet hum of appreciation from the contact, eyes closing in contentment. He took a moment to answer the question, giving a slight shrug. “I don't know. I guess it depends on whether we are doing the role reversal at the time. I want to try both, at some point.” He wanted to fuck John just as badly as he wanted to get fucked. He was curious how both felt. Tomorrow couldn't happen fast enough now. Then they would have lubricant and be able to shag properly.

"We have to be doing the role reversal if I'm fucking you?" John asked, not sure why he was pushing this fact. He should have just been happy he was going to get to fuck Sherlock at all. He couldn't imagine what anyone would think if they found out Sherlock was going to allow that. He sighed and shrugged, letting his master know he didn't have to answer the question. It wasn't important anyway. Just a small detail. Whenever John got permission he could just ignore the role reversal and fuck Sherlock however he wanted. He got the image of his master riding his cock and shivered.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, and scrutinized John for a bit. “I'm sure people will figure out we are fucking eventually but for obvious reasons the role reversal will remain between us.” He could hear his father and even brother giving him disapproving lectures about how a proper master should be acting. It could get them both in a lot of trouble, at least while he still lived with his parents anyway.

Sherlock has missed the question completely, but John just shrugged it off again. "I wasn't planning on shouting it through the streets." John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn't resist his yawn though. He wondered how late it was and smiled at Sherlock. "Are you actually going to sleep tonight?" He let his arm wrap around Sherlock and pulled him closer.

“I'm not sure. Maybe for a few hours. If I don't get at least some sleep, every couple of days I'm not as sharp as I would like to be. Mental acuity is important.” If he could, Sherlock would just do without sleeping and eating altogether if he could. That reminded him, he should probably eat tomorrow. “What about breakfast before shopping? I will need to eat at some point tomorrow.”

"Good," John said, wrapping his arm around Sherlock even tighter. Sherlock was too skinny and he felt like he could get his whole arm around him twice if he wanted. "Breakfast is always made for you. I just stopped bringing it up because you never ate breakfast." He gave a small snort. His master was always much more likely to eat lunch or dinner. He really wasn't a morning person. "But yeah that sounds nice. Am I going on the shopping trip?"

Sherlock snuggled into John some more when he felt the arm around him tighten.“I had planned on taking you, yes. You are always caught up on your duties, so spending half a day out will be fine. You can even wear what you want while out, if you would like. Now get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow.” He gave a bit of smirk.

John snorted. Mistress Holmes had stopped buying him play clothes the day he turned twelve. He really didn't have anything except what he was expected to wear around the house and his pajamas. Maybe his master would buy him something when they went to his uni together. He wasn't sure if he liked the smirk on Sherlock's face, but decided not to think about it. "Alright. Good night, Sherlock." He closed his eyes and started to fall asleep as if on command.

Sherlock stayed awake awhile after John had fallen asleep, just watching his slave the whole time. The gentle rise and fall of the chest. He wasn't sure why he found it so fascinating and it certainly wasn't something he would ever admit doing to John. Eventually, his eyes closed and he fell asleep staying closely curled into his slave's side.

John was surprised when he woke up to see Sherlock was still there and sleeping. He must have fallen asleep long after John, but what was more amusing was that he was still in John's arms. What was less amusing was he serious case of morning wood. It happened more often than not nowadays, and he supposed it was more likely to happen when he had a warm body in his arms. He thought about getting up and getting rid of it in the bathroom like he usually did, but they were together now right? John shifted a bit in hopes that Sherlock would wake up.

Sherlock groaned from the movement. It took a moment for his mind to wake up and his eyes opened slowly. How long had he ended up sleeping? He stretched all his limbs a bit, with a rare yawn. “Morning John.” It didn't take long after that for him realize his slave had quite the erection, their bodies were close enough that it was hard to miss. He smirked and rolled over on top of John. What better way to start the morning? He leaned down and kissed his slave on the lips, it was a bit sloppy but he didn't care right now.

"Morning, Sherlock." John smiled at the yawn. He yelped when Sherlock threw himself on top of him. He had bee hoping for that sort of reaction, but he hadn't expected it to be so forward. He wasn't put off though either. He gripped his master's shoulders and kissed him back, trying to direct Sherlock so it wasn't as sloppy. He pushed his erection up against Sherlock to see if he could cause his master's cock to stir as well.

Sherlock let his slave control the kiss, figuring he still had a thing or two to learn about it. He moaned into John's mouth, when he felt the erection push up against him. He rutted into the body below him eagerly and he could feel his own cock twitching to life. Perfect. He moaned again and continued grind into John. Was it possible to get off with clothes still on? It seemed messy but that didn't stop him from trying.

John didn't stop Sherlock this time as he continued to grind into him. He had been trying to take his time last night, but now? Now was just a good morning quickie like when he sometimes snuck in before it was time to check in for his first chores. He reached down and grabbed Sherlock's arse for better leverage and to help his master thrust against him better. He hoped Sherlock would let him use him as an excuse when he didn't show up for any morning chores. Or afternoon most likely.

It didn't take much, to get his cock completely hard. Sherlock broke the kiss, so he could breath but stayed straddled on John's hips. He decided they could get each other with clothes on later, as he decided he wanted to try something else. He reached a hand down his slaves pajama bottoms curiously and past the pants as well. He found the erection with ease, slender fingers closing around it and began to stroke it.

John leaned up for more when Sherlock pushed away. "I'm not done with you," he complained, falling back to the bed as Sherlock caught his breath. John gasped when his master's hand slipped into his pajama pants and found his hard length. He pushed up immediately into Sherlock's and and bit his lip. "Fuck, Sherlock." He moaned loudly, his back arching up.

Sherlock smirked, pleased with John's reaction from his touch. He continued the tight, quick strokes with his hand. He'd had a bit of practice on himself in the shower, so he was confident he would be able to get John off. His free hand reached out and pulled at his slave's shirt, to yank John up toward him so they could snog some more.

John tried to push more into the touch. Sherlock's hand felt amazing, and he was almost sure it was just because it was his. His master helping him get of. He had closed his eyes when suddenly he was yanked forward. John quickly tried to sit up comfortably and put his hands back on Sherlock's shoulder, leaning into the kiss. He put a hand in the back of Sherlock's hair, remembering how much his master had liked that yesterday.

Sherlock moaned into the kiss the moment he felt John's hand in his hair. Apparently that was quite the turn on for him. It was also pleasing to him, that his slave seemed to remember this as well. He continued to pump John's cock, his hand getting a little faster as his confidence grew with each passing moment.

John kissed Sherlock without much finesse. The hand tangled in Sherlock's hair tightened and he used the grip to just push Sherlock into him. He reached down to tug at Sherlock's trousers, slipping his own hand in to grab Sherlock's cock. He pushed forward so that they would rub together again. He broke away from the kiss and tilted his head a little, hoping Sherlock would get the message. He had always been sensitive on his neck and at the moment he wouldn't mind another love bite. He already had two, what was the point of stopping more?

Sherlock let out a low moan when he felt John touch him. He rubbed back into his slave eagerly and for a moment confusion touched his features when John stopped the kiss. He noticed the head tilt and smirked. He bent his head and began marking his slave on the same side of the neck as he had last night, near where there was already a red and purple bruise. There were so many sensations going on at once, it was hard to focus on them all but he didn't let that distract him.

John moaned when Sherlock's lips touched his neck. He started to rock more aggressively against his master. He sped up his strokes on Sherlock's cock in hopes that somehow it would help him get to his own release sooner. His master began to suck and make another bruise. His breath caught and he tensed up, coming in his pants with Sherlock's hand still wrapped around his prick. He stopped stroking for a moment and his head fell as he bit his lip and closed his eyes through his orgasm. He breathed heavily against Sherlock's neck and began to lazily stroke him again.

Sherlock felt John come on his hand and with an excited growl he nipped at the skin near his mouth. He removed his hand and wiped the mess on the sheets. Despite his slaves strokes becoming lazy, it didn't take much longer for him to get off. He moaned into John's neck, body going a bit limp on top of his slave as his climax ended. He laid there, breathing heavily and cheeks flushed. He moved slightly to one side, so he wouldn't have his full weight on John.

John moved to lay on the bed, wiping Sherlock's semen on the sheets. He was going to do so much laundry until they both got this out of their systems. However long that took. He looked at his master's dazed face and couldn't help but chuckle. "Good morning." The chuckle turned into a full blown laugh. He had just woken up with Sherlock and gotten a hand job. It was hilarious for some reason. "Are you going to shower first or should I?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes as John laughed. What the hell was so funny? He thought about pouting but he  _actually_ wanted to got out and shop. He shrugged. “We could just save time and shower together.” They were fucking now, so he didn't see why they couldn't shower together as well. He got out of bed with a groan and stripped out of his pajamas and pants, leaving his clothes on the floor like usual. He wrapped himself in a robe and went to his closet to pick out clothes for the day.

John was surprised by Sherlock's response, but wasn't going to object to that at all. "Alright." He rolled out of bed. He picked up Sherlock's clothes without much complaint. He went in the bathroom, threw them in the hamper, and started the shower. He had no need to pick out his clothes; He wore the same thing every day. "Where do you even go to buy 'toys'?" He remembered that he was going shopping today. He stripped off his own clothes and threw them into the hamper.

Sherlock picked out a white button up shirt and black trousers and went to the bathroom. “There are shops that specifically sell things like that. I found a place on my mobile we can go to.” He dropped his robe on the floor and got in the shower, turning the water a bit hotter. He liked showers on the warmer side and stepped under the spray.

John tried to imagine a store full of nothing but lube and fake cocks. He had to hold back the urge to laugh again. He wondered if Sherlock planned on testing anything on him. It seemed like the type of thing he would do. Turn sex into an experiment with him as subject A. He was slightly annoyed by the fact that the idea didn't seem to be a complete turn off. At the least he couldn't imagine telling Sherlock no. He stepped in behind him and grabbed the soap. "Want me to wash your hair?"

Sherlock smiled at the offer and nodded. “Yes, please.” He hadn't had anyone wash his hair since he was small and still took baths. He bent his head, so John could reach easier. “Did you know people shag in showers? I read about that too. It seems a bit infeasible to me, with everything being so slippery.” He shrugged a bit.

John poured some shampoo in his hands and lathered it up between his palms. He rubbed it into Sherlock's hair and massaged the scalp as he did. It was rather calming and he was sure Sherlock would like the feel of it. "Yeah, I knew that." He tried to keep any discomfort out of his voice. He had shagged in the shower twice before, whenever him and one of the other slaves had managed to get the room alone. "I'm sure we could manage if you wanted to." Not right now though, his cock was still sensitive from earlier.

Sherlock let out a content sigh when John began shampooing his hair, eyes closing briefly. He hadn't realized it would feel so relaxing and nice. Maybe he should shower with his slave more often. "Maybe after bit more experience shagging we can attempt it. I would rather avoid breaking my neck." He gave a bit of a smirk.

John smiled as he swore he could hear Sherlock's smirk. "I would like to avoid that too. Who knows where they would send me if you kicked the bucket." He finished scrubbing Sherlock's hair and rubbed his master's neck and shoulder with his still soapy hands.

The smirk got bigger. "Nice to see where your priorities are John." Sherlock relaxed into his slave's touch. Jesus. This was the most relaxing shower he had ever had. It was a bit surprising to him how much of a difference it made when someone else was doing all the work for him.

John worked his way down to wash Sherlock's entire body. He scrubbed the torso and then perhaps spent to much time rubbing Sherlock's arse before scrubbing his legs. "I thought you would agree." He picked up his master's foot to clean the soles. Some might see it as demeaning, but at the moment he found the work rather soothing. And maybe Sherlock would at least scrub his head afterwards. "You know, looking out for number one and all that.'

Sherlock was quite enjoying this shower, with his slave rubbing down every inch of his body. Maybe he would have John give him a full body massage at some point. He put a hand on the wall, to help support him him while John cleaned his feet. He gave a small chuckle at what his slave said. “Indeed. I will be sure to remember that next time my Father would like to give you a talking to.” He cocked a brow, the smirk returning.

John frowned and shuddered. "He shouldn't need to say anything to me," he muttered, feeling like there wasn't much to joke about this anymore. He finished scrubbing Sherlock's feet and stood up. "I'm yours dammit." He grabbed the soap and cleaning his own hair a lot more roughly than he had his master's. He would avoid talking to Sherlock's father ever again if he could.  The man said every slave in the house had to answer to him, despite the paper saying he belonged to Sherlock.

The smirk disappeared as soon as John's demeanor changed. "Mine," Sherlock agreed. He was quite possessive of John really. Something he had realized even before now. "At Uni you won't have to worry about him." He reached down and stopped the scrubbing hand on his slave's head. "Keep that up and you'll make yourself bleed."

"I'll be fine," John insisted, pulling his hands away from Sherlock. He let them dangle by his side. It would be nice when they were at uni and he wouldn't have to worry about anymore. John managed to force a smile. "It's hard enough just worrying about you coming down on me. I still have to worry about your bloody parents right now. It's a lot to think about."

When John's arms stayed at his side, Sherlock reached over and began massaging his slave's head gently. It had relaxed him considerably, maybe it would help John calm down as well. "Sod what they think or anyone else for that matter. After Uni, I will move out and of course you will come live with me."

John wanted to point at that Sherlock's parents controlled many aspects of his life so it hard to just 'sod' what they think. "I look forward to it." He leaned into his master's touch. He started to clean his body instead, enjoying the feeling of Sherlock's hands tangled in his short hair. No wonder his master like to have his scalp touched so much.

"Things will be better when we leave." For both of them really. Sherlock had endured many lectures from both of them about being a 'proper master' but he didn't really care what they had to say about it. Even Mycroft would get on him about it from time to time. Why was it anyone else's business how he treated his own slave anyway?

"I know," John said. He finished cleaning himself off and stepped under the water, trying to get rinsed off quickly. He wanted to go do some chores, something that would clear his head and help him get rid of his suddenly shitty mood. He resisted the urge to say that Sherlock's life wasn't even bad now and would only continue to get better while John's would stay the same. But he didn't. Because things could be a lot worse.

Still upset. Comforting others wasn't really his area, so Sherlock dropped the subject altogether. It was often mistaken as him not caring or being cold, but really he had just never learned how to deal with emotions. It had been easier to just forget about them than try anymore. He turned off the water once John was rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. He dried off and then got dressed in the clothes he had picked out.

John followed Sherlock out and did much of the same. He grabbed his work shirt with the least amount of stains (this one only had one near the bottom) and threw on a pair of trousers. "Do you know what you're going to buy yet?" John asked, wondering what Sherlock had in store for him today. He grabbed his shoes and threw them on quickly before standing in front of the mirror and patting down his short hair.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. Lubricant. Regular and even some flavored. Hand cuffs, black blind fold, and ribbed condoms. Those seem safe to use while I experiment with what I like and don't like." He glanced at his slaves clothes. "Maybe some new clothes for you. You won't have to wear the formal clothing while I am away at Uni. Unless you like wearing black and white all the time." He shrugged a bit. He liked wearing posh clothes personally.

Hand cuffs and blind folds. Oh god. Who was going to wear those? John decided not to even ask. He would find out soon enough and any anticipation was just going to make it worse. "No, I really don't." He was surprised at the offer for new clothes. He had been wearing the same uniform for ten years, what was he even going to pick out? "What am I even going to do when your at uni without a big house to help take care of?" He grinned and gave a small laugh.

Sherlock shrugged. "I am sure I will figure something out when we get there. Mum promised to get me a flat to stay at so I won't have to live on campus. Might have you get a drivers license so you can chauffeur me to and from." He buttoned his sleeves into place and decided to put on a black suit jacket as well. "Ready to go?" He was sure he could find one of the slaves to drive them to town. They had multiple vehicles and drivers.

John couldn't help but smile at the idea of getting his license. He could run errands without getting on the tube and they wouldn't have to worry about getting a driver all the time. "Ready as I'll ever be." He gave a mischievous smile. Despite some of his reservations, he was a bit excited to go. He hadn't been out with Sherlock since last he had needed clothes. This time it wasn't even a chore. They were going out for pleasure. In more than one way.

Sherlock nodded and left his room and down the stairs. He found one of the usual chauffeurs the manor had and directed him drive them somewhere for breakfast. As long as it wasn't fast food he didn't care. He wasn't a picky eater but he liked food that had some form of real taste without being deep fried in fat. "We can look at cars, maybe buy one and just have it delivered to whatever university I end up at. We can look up laws on driving on my laptop. And I am sure one of the other slaves can teach you."

"I'm sure I'll be able to learn quick," John said with a shrug. He had seen a million of other slaves drive. How hard could it be really? "Mike got his after two test runs." He had thought of his friend who had recently been made an occasional chauffeur along with his regular duties. The driver stopped them in front of a restaurant made up to look like an old time diner. Only without any of the authenticity or grease. It would do for a quick breakfast though. "What sort of car are you thinking?" He got out and began thinking about what kind of car he was going to be able to drive.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock shrugged. "Honestly John, I don't know much about cars. Something 'becoming of my status' just so my parents won't nag at me. So, something expensive I imagine." He got out of the vehicle and walked into the diner. He hadn't planned on eating a lot, but with all of his sexual activities with John lately he had been expending more energy than usual. Maybe he would end up eating a full meal for once. "Order whatever you want," he said as they were seated and given menus.

John smiled at that. An expensive sports car most likely. Something flashy and in red. Perfect. He slid into the booth and grabbed the menu, easily finding the biggest meal they had available. The waitress came by for there drinks, but he went ahead and ordered the meal along with some extra food on the side. He didn't get to eat out much, but he was going to take advantage while he could. Sherlock ordered and she walked away. "You don't seem very enthusiastic about the shopping trip." He fiddled with one of the condiment bottles.

Sherlock didn't order near the food John did. Just something simple would be sufficient for him. He arched a brow. “I don't particularly care for shopping and it is after the fact that I am looking forward to. Not the actual purchasing bit. Shopping is boring, even if I like what I am going to buy. The whole process is unnecessarily long and inefficient.” The drinks were served first and sipped on his tea, while he waited for the food to arrive.

"So you just want to get done and get home," John said with an eye roll. He didn't really mind. It was nice to get out of the house, but it would also be nice to get home and see what Sherlock had planned. "Is this all I'm going to be doing for the next few days?" He had meant sex of course. He belonged to Sherlock but he still had other chores around the house that he had to get done. Unless his master needed him, in which case he had to tell Mrs. Hudson so she could find someone else to do them.

Sherlock smirked a bit. “Was there something you wanted other than the clothes, cars and toys?” The thought of window shopping sounded horrendously boring. If John had something in mind to get, he might be willing to suffer through a few more shops to go in and out of. “As much as I would like to shag you senseless repeatedly until we got to Uni, I still need to figure out which university I am going to and make arrangements with Mum on a flat. Get ready to move, that kind of thing. Until the moving date comes closer, do your regular duties. When it comes to leave, you will be moving things and packing things up.”

John shook his head, wondering where that idea had come from. John couldn't really think of anything he wanted. Except maybe a vacation and a telly he didn't have to share with the other slaves. That would be nice. But horribly unrealistic. He supposed his vacation would start when he and Sherlock went to uni. At the very least he would be a lot less stressed. "I just said the next few days, not till uni." He gave a shrug. He honestly just needed to know how long Sherlock was going to keep him busy. "How much longer is it anyway?" John asked.

Sherlock smirked. “I can keep you as busy or not busy as I see fit, for however long I want.” The food came and he began eating immediately, not realizing how hungry he had actually been until he had the food in front of him. He finished his mouthful before answering the question. “Only a couple months away now.” He had been dragging his feet about which university to attend but he knew he'd be able to get in anywhere he wanted to so there hadn't been much rush. Filling out applications was merely a formality at this point.

"Yeah, but you don't have to be a prick about it." John had spoken a bit too loudly probably. The food came so neither of them said anything for a moment. He dug into his food a bit aggressively.  They were suppose to be friends too, dammit. Sherlock seemed to have forgotten that more and more as they had grown up. He said over and over he wasn't a master like his brother or dad, but every day he became a bit more like it. He nodded at the time frame. That seemed about right to him in any case.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and decided to just eat in silence for a bit. He had hoped getting sexual release would make things less tense between he and John but so far it didn't seem to be working. Things had just seemed simpler when they were children. Maybe that was just part of growing up because lately, despite fucking, they weren't close like before.

John ate his food quickly like he always did these days. The fact that Sherlock didn't even reply just made him angry. He couldn't just keep pushing him like this. Well he could and that just made it all the worse. His master could tell him they weren't friends at all. Sherlock could make him his pleasure slave and collect three more for himself if he wanted. His master could work him as hard as he wanted and only let him get four hours a sleep a night. And he wouldn't be able to do anything. Instead of scaring him, these facts just made more him angry.

Sherlock studied John while they ate. “I've upset you.” It wasn't a question, just an observation. He couldn't begin to fathom what had set his slave off, but something was bothering John that much was obvious just by watching him chew the food. At this rate, he just wanted the damn day to be over with. He would have thought having half a day away from the manor would be good for them both but it was clear now it was only making things worse.

"Yeah but it hardly matters," John said, taking a sip of his tea. “You can keep me as upset as you see fit, for however long you want.” He mocked Sherlock's earlier choice of words. He knew he shouldn't be pressing his master's buttons like this. Yesterday had been an improvement over the last few months and he was about to fuck it up. He didn't care. He just wanted Sherlock to start acting like his fucking friend instead of just another master like the rest of his family.

_That_ was what John was upset about? Sherlock had only been teasing John when he said that. They had been able to joke in the shower earlier this morning, what had changed since then? “I had said that in jest John.” He sighed and shrugged, not bothering to finish the food on his plate. He just wasn't hungry anymore. He signaled to the waitress to bring him the check. He was ready to get the hell out of the diner.

John figured it wasn't worth arguing about. Sherlock was going to do whatever he wanted too. He didn't know he was probably going to get an earful when he got home for not checking in this morning. "Alright, Sherlock. Don't worry about it." He looked up to see the look on his master's face. "I was probably just overreacting." He was lying but he didn't want this day with Sherlock to be total hell because of some stupid remark he had to make.

Sherlock frowned. John was still upset and he wasn't entirely sure what about. Usually he could read people quite easily but his slave was proving difficult at the moment. “If you want, you can have my leftovers later. I won't eat the rest of the day.” Maybe just pushing forward would help. Or worse with the way the morning was turning out so far. He checked the bill and left a tip accordingly and then went up front to pay for the check. 

" I'm fine." John was actually full for the moment. "Eggs don't keep well anyway." He followed Sherlock to the front and stood behind him with his hands in his pockets. He was trying to look forward to the rest of the day. His master was going to buy a car, that he was going to get to drive. Not to mention get him new clothes and an apparent plethora of sex toys. Then they were going to go back to the house and have more sex, which hadn't been disappointing yet. Best he had so far honestly. He'd have to catch up on chores tonight, but he could worry about that then.

Sherlock gave a slight nod of his head in recognition of what John had said. Once he paid, he walked out to the waiting car. The chauffeur opened the door and he got in. He gave the driver the address of where he wanted to go and the name of the store. He ignored the look of disbelief and slumped into the car's window on the other side.

Based on the driver's reaction, John was able to guess that they were going to the sex shop first. He turned to Sherlock and gave him a cheeky smile, but his master was slumped against the window. Fine then. He slumped against Sherlock, putting his head on his master's shoulder. He was boney and not very comfortable, but he wasn't going to let Sherlock sulk the rest of the day. The driver up front raised an eyebrow.

Sherlock relaxed when he felt John on his shoulder and he gave a bit of a smile. He  reached a hand up to run through John's hair. His free hand put up the partition, so the driver would stop looking at them. It would probably cause more gossip but the manor seemed to hold little more than that these days.

John smiled at the feeling of Sherlock's hand in his hair. Of course his master could do it, but when he did it he was treating Sherlock like a child. The thought had no malice in it though, just a slight chuckle because that's how Sherlock was. "We're not very good at the whole being inconspicuous thing." He joked as his master rolled the partition up. "He's probably trying to text someone about us as he drives."

Sherlock smirked. "That reminds me, I'll probably get you a mobile while I am in Uni. You probably won't be allowed to attend my classes, so I will just text you when it is over. Or more likely, get bored in class and need a distraction." He had been ready to pout when he had gotten in the vehicle but John had managed to relax him.

"We're gonna be out all day at this rate," John said in a teasing tone. He was gonna try to keep the mood up, if only to keep Sherlock happy. He turned backwards and put his head in his master's lap, smiling up at him with the goofiest smile he could manage. "I don't even know why you're going to go to class. You'll probably just read the book and know more than the teacher."

Sherlock smirked and he looked down at John. “I probably know more than all the professors already, but it is expected of me. To go to Uni I mean. Father thinks I should become a doctor or a scientist. That I should use my intellect to find a cure for cancer or go work on the Hardon Collider.” He sighed. “But nothing of that sort interests me.” He continued to run a hand through John's hair, because it was actually helping to soothe him.

John wrinkled his nose. "I can't see you as a doctor." He couldn't help but chuckle. "Can you imagine your bedside manner?" He gave a snort at that. Sherlock would be the worst doctor. He would show up and tell people that he discovered they had cancer, and then say it was obvious and they should have figured it out themselves. "What does interest you? Or are we just living off your trust fund for the rest of forever?"

Sherlock snorted but then smirked. “My bedside manner would be atrocious.” He shrugged. “I don't know. Puzzles. Things that are  _interesting_ . Maybe I will work with the Yard, be a detective inspector. I am good at deducing things. Well, I am good at everything.” Another smirk but it turned to a frown when felt his mobile go off. He reached into coat pocket and pulled it out. It was from his mother. Right. He had forgot to tell his parents he was taking John out. He sent a quick text back and pocketed the mobile again. 

"You could do that." Sherlock did manage to know a lot about people without them saying anything. That would be useful when being a detective right? Plus his master knew every tell known to man so no one would really ever be able to lie to him. "It's a lot of paper work I would think. But I bet even you would get a thrill out of chasing murderers." John wondered if he would get to work with Sherlock on this. Be his assistant or something.

Sherlock made a face at the mention of paper work. “That sounds tedious. Perhaps I will have to find another way to do work like that. Invent a job of my own.” He nodded at that. He wasn't sure what he was going to come up with. He was genius after all, so he was certain he would think of something. The car came to a stop and it didn't take long for the door to be opened afterward. He waited for John to get up off his lap and then got out of the car.

"You would do that." John wondered how on earth Sherlock would manage to get a job with no paperwork and no people to deal with. The car stopped, he sat up and then stepped out to look at the shop. It looked normal enough from the outside, just a large sign that read 'private shop.' _Very_ private, he thought. He turned to Sherlock and shrugged before walking into the shop.

Sherlock walked inside with John and glanced around. He wasn't much of a browser and with his mental list ready, he picked up a hand basket and began putting in the items he wanted. He paused at all the different flavors of lubricant. “John, what do you think?” There were all sorts of fruit flavors, chocolate, vanilla and a few others.

John walked behind Sherlock as he grabbed quite a few items. The promised blindfold and restraints were already there along with a few other things. John had to fight not to laugh at some of the items he saw. The different shapes and uses. It was really ridiculous. Sherlock asked his opinion on the lube and John shrugged, looking at all the different flavors. "I've always like strawberries."

Sherlock barely took notice of anything in the store, that he didn't' intend to buy. He grabbed the strawberry lubricant and then just tipped a few more different bottles in without really bothering to look what flavors they were. He found the regular kind as well. “If you want something, get it. I'll be up at the counter checking out.” He moved up to the register and was confused when the man behind the counter told him he had a cute boyfriend. He decided it was best to not try and explain the situation.

Nothing in particular caught John's eyes as he followed Sherlock up to the counter. He saw a ball gag and jokingly thought about how it would be nice to keep Sherlock quiet for the change, but the last thing he wanted was his master to get the wrong idea and make him wear it. His jaw still hurt from the fucking blow job last night, he didn't think he could deal with a gag in his mouth for any extended period of time. He reached the counter and the clerk winked at him. John couldn't help but give a small flirty smile as they rang up Sherlock's many purchases.

Sherlock gave a small scowl at the looks John and the clerk exchanged. He paid and then left the store. He gave the driver another address and store name, this time for clothing. He slid in and glanced at his slave when he was joined in the vehicle. “Do...people often confuse us for a couple? The clerk thought you were my boyfriend.” That was definitely against normal master and slave standards but he supposed he was pretty good at breaking pretty much every rule his parents expected him to follow. He frowned a bit in thought, he had never even considered making it anything just beyond shagging in one way or other.

John stared at Sherlock as if he had lost a few braincells. "Sherlock we were in a sex shop buying sex toys and lube. What else was he suppose to think we were?" He was thinking it was a far assumption to make. "I doubt they see many slaves in there and I'm not wearing a collar. He probably didn't even suspect I was a slave to be honest." He hoped this wouldn't cause Sherlock to change any of that. He hated wearing collars and people looked at people differently when they knew someone was a slave. It was off putting.

“Oh right. I forget that not everyone gives their slaves the same freedom I do to you.” Sherlock brushed off his thoughts and shrugged. “Of course you don't wear a collar. You look ridiculous in it and even if you didn't...we are still friends.” Weren't they? There were times he wasn't so sure. He had pushed John away a lot lately, up until yesterday anyways. 

 "Thanks," John said, meaning it. He almost asked if he didn't just look ridiculous all the time but he didn't feel like being teased. "Yeah, we're friends." He gave a smile, reaching up and messing up Sherlock's hair a bit. He didn't care if it made his master feel like a kid. He had done it since the day they met and he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. "It doesn't bother you does it?" 

Sherlock closed his eyes at the hand in his hair. He quite liked it actually. He had only yelled at John about it before because he had been fighting his sexual impulses. He didn't need to anymore. “Of course not. If anything...I'm glad. You make life at the manor a lot more bearable to be honest.” Sentiment. He was rubbish at it and he had probably made a faux pas there somewhere. Social skills weren't exactly his area. John was the only one who he would even occasionally try with.

John laughed a little and moved his hand to the back of Sherlock's neck. "I meant the guy mistaking us for a couple," he clarified, rubbing his master's neck now that he was apparently allowed. His sex drive must have really been pushing his irritation to the edge. "But you don't get to take the compliment back." He was actually feeling appreciated for once. He knew Sherlock had been a lonely kid before he came around. His master had told him himself. "I'm glad too for the record. Working for a total prat is a bit easier when he's your friend."

Oh. Well now he felt like an idiot. He really should just give up on all things involving social interaction. His eyes eyes remained closed as John kept a hand on him, but he gave a faint smirk. “Yes, I have heard your master can be quite unbearable. In answer to the original question though, no. It doesn't. Just thought...it was curious someone thought that of us...”

"Hardly," John said, trying to match Sherlock's own posh accent. "If you saw two blokes buying sex toys you would probably think they were dating too." He didn't even bother to try and hide his smile. He pulled Sherlock over a little so his master was leaning against him. He let his arm rest around Sherlock, just holding him close in the car while he could.

Sherlock would have rolled his eyes but they were still closed and he was far to content. He kept his head on the shoulder he was now leaning on. “John, two men buying sex toys together isn't a definitive deduction. It is a conclusion that was reached based off assumptions and no sort of facts. You ordinary people really have an easy life. What it must be like in those funny little brains of yours.”

John did roll his eyes. "Why else would two men be together buying a buttload of lube?" He had been unable to resist the pun. "That fact is they're two blokes who are doing something that leads up to something couples do. They could just be shopping together and buying for their own partners, but I didn't get anything. And my funny little brain is doing just fine thank you."

“It still isn't conclusive,” Sherlock muttered. He usually liked proving how right he always was, but his head was on John's shoulder and he wanted to concentrate on that instead. It was comfortable and nothing much else seemed to matter much. He just wanted to spend the whole day with with John. And...maybe he could... “John...what would you say to playing hooky all day? Maybe have the driver leave us in town and we get a hotel room. One of those posh suites in a luxury hotel.”

Sherlock didn't seem to want to argue about it so John let it go. He was enjoying having his master pressed against him even in a nonsexual way. It was nice. He looked down at Sherlock a bit surprised at the request. That sounded a bit like a vacation. "You really want to?" He was worried Sherlock might get bored after a few hours with him. "I mean, that sounds great to me as long as you make sure your dad doesn't come down on me for skiving off my duties." It sounded more than great actually. He and Sherlock could just lay around and maybe catch up a little. He had never stayed in a hotel room before, but he knew that he wouldn't be the one cleaning up while they were there.

“Yes, I think it would be good for both of us. And...we could try out some of things I bought.” Sherlock smirked a bit. Although, if all they did was curl up with each other in the bed like they were right now, he would be okay with that too. “I will deal with my father. I'll just say I decided to go out for a day and ordered to come with me. As my slave you can't disobey. And you didn't know until now, so you couldn't give any kind of heads up to for your absence.”

"Sounds good to me." John rubbed his hand up and down Sherlock's side. "Do you already have a plan for tonight?" He wondered if Sherlock had already thought this out. They had already been at it once today, but he knew from experience he could probably come two more times today if his master wanted to do a lot.

“Only thing I really want to do is shag you senseless, properly, at some point. We can figure everything else out as we go.” The car came to a stop and the door opened. Sherlock didn't want to get up from John's lap but the driver clearing his throat finally motivated him to move. He grabbed the bags from the sex store and got out. “John and I will be awhile. Head back to the manor and we'll find another way home.” The driver stared at him uncertainly and then nodded.

John felt himself flush and wanted to smack himself for it. He wasn't some fainting virgin for Christ sakes. Well maybe in that area, but he still had some experience with just about everything else. "If you say so." He was willing to trust Sherlock on this. Hopefully that book of his had instructed him on how to properly prepare something. The driver stopped in front of a high end clothes and John was surprised when Sherlock went ahead and sent the driver away. He was gonna have to carry the shopping all day at this rate. "Do you even know where a posh hotel is?" He looked around at the different shops.

Sherlock fished out his mobile and searched the Internet quickly. “I do now.” He smirked smugly at John. “We we will take cab there after we get your clothes. I have some petty cash on me I can use as fare.” He walked in the clothing store and glanced around. “Get whatever you want. Pajamas, casual, formal, pants, socks.” He shrugged. “Whatever you think you will need. Shoes too, if you need them.”

John walked into the clothing store and felt a little overwhelmed. He didn't even want to think about what the price tags at this place would look like. John walked around and tried to pick out some things he thought he liked. He thought the jumpers would be useful, he was cold most of the time in just the button up shirt, so he grabbed a couple of those. Then some jeans so he could stop wearing black trousers all the time. He figured he didn't need any formal wear, his uniform would be good enough right? "Do you think I'll need formal clothes?" He looked over his shoulder while looking at some t-shirts.

Sherlock watched John pick out clothes quietly, sort of just following his slave around the store, trying not fantasize too much about John modeling the clothes off for him. It took a moment for the question to register and he raised his eyebrows and then shrugged. "I don't think so. You will have to wear formal again when we are home for the holidays though."

"I'll just keep these then." John gestured down to what he was wearing. He grabbed a few more things. Corduroys, pajamas, some socks and pants. He looked down at the set of work shoes he wore everyday and put his clothes down to try on a pair of trainers. He found a nice black pair that fit and turned to Sherlock. "I think I have everything." He looked down at what had turned into a large pile of clothes. Well large for John. It was nothing compared to Sherlock's outlandish wardrobe.

Sherlock nodded and continued to watch John pick out clothes. He paid for everything, using the credit card he had been given on his last birthday. He hadn't really used it until today and he had no idea what the limit was, but it was bound to be high he figured so he didn't even pay attention to the cost. “Ready to piss away the rest of the day?” He gave John a smirk and gave his bag of purchases a slight shake. He was damn ready, especially considering the amount of fantasizing he had done about his slave since walking into he clothing store. This time he wouldn't have to wank off in a shower. He'd be able to do something about it.

John grabbed the bags from Sherlock and gave him a grin. "Didn't have anything else planned." He was feeling that things were going a bit better now. Sherlock's mood seem to have increased a lot since breakfast. Maybe it was just because of the promise of sex, but he hoped it had a little more to do with it than just that. "How far is this posh place anyway?" He walked out of the store and looking for a cab to flag down. That was one of the good things about not wearing a collar was that cabs would actually stop for him.

“Not too far. Just a few kilometers.” They were in the more ritzy side of London, and the posh stores and hotels tended to cluster together in this particular region. Once a cabbie stopped for them, he climbed in. Sherlock was so used to John doing everything for him, it didn't even occur to him to help with all the bags. Once his slave was next to him he gave the address and he had enjoyed the closeness they'd shared in the limo, so he leaned his head on John's shoulder.

"Excellent." John was glad Sherlock hadn't pick somewhere to out of the way. He stepped into the cab, trying to arrange the many bags on the floor. Sherlock was apparently not done with cuddling and he didn't really mind anyway. He put his arm around his master and rested his head on Sherlock's. They must have looked like two posh gits from out of town, he thought. Thrifty shopping and now going to the plush hotel. He laughed to himself.

“I like this,” Sherlock admitted. There was a part of him that wished they could do it every day and sod the rest of the world. But they both had responsibilities they had to do. Traffic made the ride last a little longer than anticipated, but he didn't mind it. When they came to a stop, he paid the fare and remembered to tip. His Mum said that was important to do and gentlemanly. A bell hop came immediately and took their bags and waited while the guests checked in. The hotel was by reservation only but all he had to do was mention who his father was and the suite was magically available to them. His father was a powerful man with a lot of influence. He didn't like using it really but it was certainly going to pay off now. He gave John a smirk as he took the key. The suite was on the top floor, the only room on the floor and it was supposed to have quite the view of London.


	11. Chapter 11

John enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence, his head just resting against Sherlock. It had been a while since they had been like this. They had played a lot when he was little but as he got older it had stopped. He guessed now they had something to connect them again. The hotel they stopped in front of was huge. John almost protested when a bellhop took the bags from him, but then he remembered that was his job. Christ, he probably didn't even look like a slave right now. Not that he ever did, but the fact that they probably assumed he was well off was surprising. They got on the elevator to go to the top floor and he slipped his hand into Sherlock's and held it. The room they were let into was bigger than the entire slave quarters at the Holmes estate. There was a fucking Jacuzzi in the main area and then a giant bathtub in the bathroom. The bed was huge, the telly was huge, everything was huge. He stared in marvel for a second.

Sherlock smirked a bit and squeezed John's hand, when their fingers intertwined. He watched his friend marvel at the room around them. “I take it you like it? And with hotel staff to wait on us, you get the rest of the day off.” He leaned over to whisper in John's ear. “You are all mine now.” He nipped at the ear gently, tongue running along the lobe teasingly.

"I know. It's fantastic." John walked forward and looked around the room. The room seem to get bigger the longer he looked. Who even needed all this space? His thoughts were interrupted by Sherlock's words in his ear and then his mouth on his ear. He let out a little moan and shivered. No one had ever done that to him before. Was that something that was in his master's book? Judging by Sherlock's behavior he was going to be in charge right now, but it was only noon. John could have a turn later. "I'm already yours," he reminded Sherlock, turning and putting his arms around his master's shoulders.

Sherlock smiled. “I know. Mine forever.” He moved closer and wrapped his arms around John's waist. His hands slipped up his slave's shirt, fingers trailing along the bare skin. He leaned down some, so he could press their foreheads together. “So...when you were picking out clothes I was thinking about you showing them off. And then me taking them off you one at a time. Teasing the hell out of you and making you beg before shagging you good and proper.” He smirked a bit. “I quite liked those red pants you got. And I bet jeans and jumper would look amazing on you.”

John shivered as his master's hands ran over his chest. Fuck. Sherlock wasn't the only one who seemed to be affected by the other. Maybe it was just because his master had read about more places to touch. He had spent far more time touching girl's chest than having them touch his. "You want me to model for you?" He couldn't help but sound a bit incredulous. He had remembered the red pants. They had just been one in a set. They had comes with two pairs of black pants and two pairs of white ones. The red ones had seemed like a joke in the package.

Sherlock smirked as he noticed the shiver. He continued to let his fingers trail over the skin lightly. “Oh God yes.” He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since they had entered the clothing store. He pressed his hips into John, grinding eagerly into his slave with a small moan. He forced himself still. He was going to need restraint and control if he was going to be able to play out his whole fantasy.

John wasn't sure how this fantasy of Sherlock was going to play out, but he figured he would do anything for his master and not just because he had too. Honestly he could probably be free and he would still follow Sherlock around. He couldn't think of anything else to do at the moment. His master ground into him and he reached down and grabbed his hips to slow him down. "Why don't you pick something out for me then?" His hands went to to the buttons on his shirt so he could undo them.

Sherlock nodded and began going through the bags. He got the red pants of course, a smirk on his lips. He pulled out a pair of jeans and jumper that had black and white stripes. “Here.” He moved his gaze to John, watching his slave undress. God, that shouldn't be so damn hot. Focus. How was it John could distract him so easily? He decided to that he should go ahead and get lubricant, just in case he didn't want to wait anymore. He remembered that John had picked out the strawberry flavored one so he picked it up. “Meet me at the bed when you are ready Handsome.” He gave John a smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively before moving to the massive bed, it was even bigger than his at the manor.

John finished undressing all the way down to his pants with little care for his nudity. Sherlock had already seen it all yesterday and they had been dressing in the same room for years. He pulled on the red pants and turned around in them as if he was just looking at himself. Not as if he was putting on a show for Sherlock. But looks were deceiving. He pulled on the jeans, which more far more comfortable than any work trousers he had ever had. John added a t-shirt to his master's pile. A plain white one. He didn't think Sherlock would complain about having an extra layer to pull off. "Handsome?" He wondered where the compliment had come from. Not that he objected. He pulled the jumper over his head and held his arms out to the side to show himself off to Sherlock. "Good?" He walked over towards the bed.

Sherlock put the bottle of flavored lube on the nightstand by the bed. He began undressing himself, until he was in nothing but his pants. He turned to look at John. “Perfect. And yes Handsome. You are, quite.” He closed the gap between them. He took John's hand and led them to the bed, and then straddled his slave. He glanced down at John, his face serious. “Do you trust me?” He was taking what he had read in one of his books and applying to his own fantasy but for it to work trust was needed. He reached out hand to trace along John's face, his thumb rubbing gently at the chin.

John couldn't help but smile at the praise. "You're not bad yourself." He let Sherlock lead him onto the bed and straddle him. He grabbed Sherlock's hips and looked up at his master with a smile. At least until Sherlock asked the question. "Of course I do." His face also serious now. But then he remembered what Sherlock had bought today. The restraints and the blindfold. He swallowed as he wondered what all Sherlock's fantasy entailed. "But what are you going to do?"

Sherlock smirked. “If I told you, it would ruin the surprise.” He turned serious again. “In one of my books, it mentioned a safety word. Do you think we should have one? Just in case? We are both exploring new things at this point and we don't know what we like or don't like yet. Its supposed to be a word not related to sex but also something we will both remember. Ideas?”

John shifted uncomfortably under Sherlock as his master refused to tell him what was going to happen. That was okay though, he reassured himself. He trusted Sherlock. And his master had already said he wasn't planning on hurting John. He didn't have a bloody whip hidden anywhere. He could handle anything else. The idea of a safety word just made John more worried, but he supposed it was for his safety right? He thought quickly and managed a small smile. "Would pirates work?"

Sherlock laughed and nodded. “Perfect. Now close your eyes and try not to open them the whole time. You don't have to do anything. Just...take it all in.” He gave a reassuring smile and waited for John to comply and took a breath. Right. He could do this. His slave had been taking care of him since he was ten, the least he could do was spoil John for day. Show him how much appreciated everything done for him. He wasn't good at sharing sentiment. If anything, he had probably made John feel unwanted at times. He leaned down and began placing gentle kisses on John, starting with the ear and working down. The book had said lack of senses heightened the experience for the receiver and he hoped it was right.

John did as he was told. Closing his eyes made it hard to relax though. He felt super aware of everything but at the same time felt like he wasn't aware of anything at all. He felt Sherlock move but still made a noise of surprise when he felt Sherlock's lips on his ear and neck. His eyes opened to look down at Sherlock, but then he remembered what he was suppose to be doing. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back down to the pillow, trying to relax so he wouldn't move again and interrupt whatever Sherlock was doing. Just take it all in. Right.

Nervous. It wasn't something he was used to feeling. What if he did something wrong and ruined everything for John? Jesus. Maybe he had been a bit too ambitious or just trying to hard. Sherlock forced his thoughts aside and focused on his slave. He began sucking lightly on John's neck, a hand running up the shirts so he could scratch lightly at the skin. He pressed his growing erection into the jeans and he let out a moan, enjoying the friction being caused.

Some part of John seemed to think that Sherlock wasn't doing much at all. He was going slow and careful. But some other part of him wanted Sherlock to slow down. It all managed to feel like too much and not enough. Sherlock's lips on his neck and his nails crawling underneath John's shirts. Sherlock pressed them together and he let out a moan, his hands going to Sherlock's back as if to hold him down. He resisted the urge to scratch at Sherlock's back himself, but he knew that wasn't what Sherlock wanted him to do tonight.

Sherlock was pleased when he finally got a response out of John. Slow. Draw it out. Have the man below him begging for it by the time he was done. They had only gotten each other a couple of times before but those had been quick and lazy. He wanted to try and experience something new. He left another mark on the neck, but it wasn't as prominent as the other ones left behind. He kissed his way to the other side of John's neck, where he began sucking once more. His fingers continued to scratch at the chest and he pressed into his slave with a little more earnest. He wasn't sure he was going to have the patience to follow through with all his plans.

John couldn't help but let out a small gasp every time Sherlock moved on to a new area. He could feel him but that still made it a lot harder to anticipate where the next kiss or touch would be. And he had always been oh so sensitive on his neck. He arched his head up to give Sherlock more space, wondering how much longer this teasing was going to go. His hand grabbed a hold of Sherlock's shirt, fisting them tight. His master pressed down again and he lifted his hip, not wanting the contact to stop. He was still fully clothed for fucks sake. "Sherlock," he whined.

There. Now he was getting somewhere. Sherlock smirked, pleased. Perhaps he had worried for no reason. He finished the mark on the neck and moved back up to nibble on the earlobe, to see what kind of reaction that would get from John. His fingers trailed down to the waistband of the jeans, two fingers sliding in and then along lightly of the the stomach. He kept grinding into his slave, the friction of the fabric making him moan once more.

John's grip only tightened the more Sherlock teased him. His master nibbling on his ear shouldn't get that sort of response from his cock but it did. He was hard and Sherlock grinding down through the fabric only made it worse. Or better. Who could tell at this point? Sherlock finally touched some hidden skin and John pushed up into the touch. Why didn't Sherlock just take his bloody trousers off already? He opened his eyes just a bit, not surprised to see a smug look on his master's face.

Sherlock gave John a mock glare for peeking. “Keep your eyes closed or I will draw this out even longer than I had intended to.” He gave another smug smirk and moved his head back down to gently gnaw on the other ear because he had quite liked the response it had gotten out of John last time. He let his hand snake into the jeans and down past his slave's pants, fingers trailing lightly on the inside of John's left thigh.

"Alright. Alright." John closed his eyes and swallowed. Sherlock could drag this out for hours if he wanted. How long till John just threw him off and wanked himself to orgasm? Wouldn't be too much longer if his master kept it up on his ear. He pushed up into Sherlock's hand, whining when it went right past his cock. He didn't need a hand on his thigh dammit. "Sherlock please."

Sherlock smirked a bit. “And _I'm_ supposed to be the impatient one.” Fine. Things weren't going as planned in his head anyway. Perhaps teasing wasn't for everyone. He let his hand trace along the thigh a bit more before grabbing the cock and began slow, lazy movements. He didn't want to get John off too soon. He raised the jumper and t-shirt enough so he could begin marking his slave's chest with his mouth, his hips pressing down into John with earnest.

"Are you?" John asked, squirming under Sherlock's hands. He moaned when his master finally grabbed his cock and began to wank him off. This was a bit... tame? Hadn't Sherlock said something about stripping him and fucking him until he couldn't sit. He had put the lube on the side table. If his master wasn't careful he was going to get him off before he could. He had already felt like he could have came in his pants a few times. Sherlock's mouth started sucking on his chest and he gasped, sucking in his stomach a bit.

Damn it. Nothing was going as planned at all. Maybe he should make things less complicated but Sherlock had all these ideas running around in his head. He let out a growl, unsure if he was just frustrated or extremely turned on. Maybe both. He finally lifted his head and looked down John. “Fuck it, just undress.” He began unbuttoning his own shirt, threw it on the ground behind him somewhere before he worked on getting his trousers off.

John's eyes opened suddenly, surprised at the change in pace. He hadn't done anything right? Part of him didn't care since it was obviously Sherlock was still planning on having sex with him. But the other part of him that had been a slave most of his life was worried he had upset Sherlock somehow with his reaction. He sat up slowly and lifted the jumper over his head, tossing it to the floor. He undid his own trousers but couldn't pull them down with Sherlock still straddling him.

Sherlock moved off of John, so his slave could remove the trousers and so he could remove his own. He grabbed the lube, the smell of strawberries reaching him the moment he undid the cap. He wasn't entirely sure how much to use, so he just slathered some on his hand and began stroking himself. He moaned at his own touch, and once he figured he was properly prepped he looked down at John. “Roll over onto your stomach.” Maybe his plans were ruined but damn it, he was at least going to fuck the hell out of his slave.

John pulled off his trousers quickly as well as his pants, figuring he might as well do this right and be ready. He watched Sherlock carefully as he grabbed the lube, but was surprised when Sherlock just rubbed it on his own cock. Was he just going to have John lick it off? Were they just going to roll around again instead of him actually being fucked? He began to relax at the idea, reaching down to stroke his own cock when Sherlock's voice stopped him. "Sherlock..." His voice held a bit worried. He still wasn't completely okay with this and he was almost sure it was going to hurt. He nodded as if to himself and then rolled over. He folded his arms and laid his head down on top of them.

For a moment, Sherlock wasn't sure if John was going to comply and his plans would be ruined yet again. He relaxed a little when his slave finally rolled over. He got some more lube, on his hand and then inserted only one finger to ease John into it. He did that for awhile and then shoved two fingers in. Despite his strong desire to just pound into his slave to vent some of the frustration he was feeling, he didn't want to make the experience too uncomfortable for John.

John clenched up when he felt Sherlock enter him without much preamble. The feeling was odd. So odd. It wasn't right. He bit his lip to keep himself from telling Sherlock to get off of him. He breathed through his nose and tried to find some pleasure in the feeling. At least Sherlock was going slow. Maybe the feeling wasn't so horrible. He felt a small bit of pleasure when Sherlock's finger rubbed against his rim in a certain way. And the more Sherlock fucked him with his finger the more relaxed he managed to become. He was breathing fine again when Sherlock shoved two fingers in. He gasped and tightened again, still not sure about the intrusion. How did people do this? He was ready to protest for Sherlock to get off again when Sherlock moved his fingers a certain way and he felt a jolt through him and straight to his cock. Sherlock seemed to accidentally hit it again and he failed to bite back a moan.

Sherlock smirked when John finally started to relax and even moan. Always the observant one, he rubbed his fingers in the spot his slave seemed to enjoy to evoke the same response. He thought about easing a third finger in but he was feeling a bit impatient at the moment. He removed his fingers, making sure to rub the same spot on his way out. He finally slid his cock in, moaning the moment he entered. He began a slow pace, so he wouldn't get off too soon. He wanted to enjoy his first time for as long as he could.

John pushed back into Sherlock just a bit as the finger's brushed that spot again. Oh what the fuck even was that? Every time his master brushed it if felt like his prick was getting harder and he was becoming more desperate. Sherlock removed his fingers and John braced himself expecting a third. His eyes flew open as he didn't feel fingers at all, just the brush of Sherlock's cock. "Sherlock, wait!" He breathed out, not feeling ready at all. He apparently hadn't spoken out enough because Sherlock was pushing in. The pleasure was gone and was replaced with a burn. He wasn't sure which feeling was worse. The fact that he felt like he was being split in two or the fact that it felt like he needed to use the loo. Both where uncomfortable. Sherlock started to move and he gasped as the burn increased. Even the slow pace felt like too much and he struggled to catch his breathe so he could tell Sherlock so.

Sherlock had lost himself in the the haze of arousal that he hadn't heard John at all at first. He paused mid thrust. “What?” Christ he just wanted to shag. At this rate it was never going to happen. Had he not used enough lubrication? Maybe he hadn't prepped his slave enough in his haste to fuck. He sighed, pulled out and rolled over with a groan. It just wasn't worth it anymore.

John was surprised when Sherlock paused mid-thrust. Was he going to slow down? He breathed in a sigh of relief and shifted, trying to adjust himself a bit. The burn was still there but was slowly going away. He grunted when his master pulled out completely. He felt a bit empty and a lot sore. He turned his head and looked at Sherlock who looked disappointed to put it mildly. "Sherlock." He wasn't even sure what to ask first. He had just had sex (penetrative sex anyway) for the first time and neither of them had even come. "You couldn't have asked if I was ready?" He finally asked, not caring if it made Sherlock upset. He didn't want his master to be upset but he needed to ask.

Sherlock had his eyes slammed shut. He was left feeling rather sexually frustrated and displeased at the moment. “It didn't occur to me, no.” He shrugged. He had never been good with other's feelings and thoughtless, even with John. Though he did try to make an effort every now and then since they were friends. “Bit not good?” He asked, cracking an eye open and turning his head so he could look at his slave.

John lifted himself up onto his elbows, flinching slightly as he shifted. "A bit," he agreed dryly, trying not to come down on Sherlock too hard. He really hadn't meant to hurt John after all right? Hopefully. Probably. He had said no to the whips and chains after all. "I think you just rushed a bit. I- I never done this part before Sherlock." He wondered if his master could even begin to understand what that had felt like. He sighed and put his head in his hands, breathing slowly. "Do you want me to suck you off?" He asked, not wanting to stop what they were doing.

“Obviously, I haven't either. A learning experience for us both then. I'll try to be more mindful the next time.” Sherlock shook his head at he question. “No. I'm not in the mood anymore.” He just wanted to lay around and sulk. Damn it. This was supposed to be a good day, of just doing whatever they pleased. He closed his eyes again. “We can try again later maybe. I'll even let you be the Master. You can use any of the props I bought if you want.” 

John figured that was the best he was going to get which was fine. Sherlock could have been a lot less considerate (ignoring his pain and finishing being just the start), but they were friends and he supposed that had to mean something. In any case his pain was just a small burn now. He was even still hard. He groaned when Sherlock said no and rolled onto his back. He took himself in hand and started to stroke himself lazily without much care for Sherlock being there. He couldn't expect him to just will it away now. "You want me to use them on you?" He asked, thinking about Sherlock wearing a blindfold and the wrist restraints. It wasn't a bad thought. His master would go nuts not being able to see or move.

Sherlock glanced over, to watch John jerk himself off. “It is why I bought them, yes. You didn't seem interested in them being used on you.” He gave a slight shrug. He wasn't hard anymore and he wondered what they could for the rest of the day until he was in the mood again. They had snuggled quite a bit in the car and cab, maybe that. It had been nice and relaxing and something they had both enjoyed.

"No not particularly," John admitted, picking up his speed a bit. He didn't like the idea of not being able to control what he did. He could hardly control what he did on a day to day basis, why would he give up his movement too?  His pace picked up as he thought about what he might get to do with Sherlock tonight. Would his master want him to act like a typical master? Sherlock didn't do that with John. Didn't call him slave and he didn't make him call him sir. But if they were playing it should be different right? The thought of Sherlock calling him sir and begging to be fucked entered his head and he came with a groan. He breathed for a moment, grabbing the edge of the sheet and wiping his front off and hand off. He turned towards Sherlock and smiled, feeling a bit more optimistic.

Sherlock watched John get off, finding that to be rather hot. Jesus. He had just got over his hard on but he could feel his cock twitching back to life. He returned the smile and moved to begin snogging with John, his dour mood gone now. He rolled, so he could straddle his slave and he pressed his growing erection against John with a small moan. “I should watch you jerk off more often,” he murmured behind the kiss.

John leaned into the kiss. This was unexpected, but not unwelcome. At least not until Sherlock ground into him. He gasped and cursed. "Fuck. I am still sensitive," he reminded him, trying to pull away from Sherlock just a bit. He felt himself turn a bit red at Sherlock's words. Which was ridiculous. It was him who had decided to put on the show in the first place. Not that he had thought of it like that. He had just been trying to get off. He grabbed Sherlock's hips and looked up at his master. "Did you really just watch me get off and are now going to expect me to help you with yours? I thought you were fine for now." He reminded Sherlock, his voice a bit teasing.

Sherlock slid up John a bit, so he could rub his erection on his slave's stomach. He snorted at the teasing but smirked. “As a matter of fact, yes I did.” He leaned down again, and this time he began marking John's chest. He found he quite liked leaving red and purple bruises all over John.  _ His _ slave. He ground into John again, there wasn't as much friction with the lubricant there but it still felt good. Out of curiosity, he moved his lips to one of his slave's nipples and began licking it to see if that would get any kind of response. 

"That's horribly selfish of you," John said, sticking his hands behind his head. He could at least appear like he wasn't participating in this. At least Sherlock wasn't rubbing against his cock anymore. He was just going to come all over his chest is all. He sighed and hoped the corner of the sheet could clean up a bit more. He gasped when Sherlock started sucking at his skin again, not expecting the sensation. Did this get Sherlock off? He pushed his chest up just a bit and all inhaled sharply when his master licked one of his nipples. Shit that was unexpected.

Sherlock smirked at John's comment but didn't reply as he was keen on the attention he was giving his slave at the moment. Another smirk at John's reaction of the nipple lick, so he began sucking on it gently. He moaned, as he pressed his erection against his slave's chest and began sliding back and forth to create some more friction as his cock slid along John's stomach and lower chest. His hands came to his slave's side, fingers scratching along John's obliques.

Sherlock started sucking on his nipple, causing him to take in another deep breathe. John was about to protest. He had just come and he was sensitive, not just on his cock. But it felt so good. "I want you to know." His hands moving to hold Sherlock's shoulders. "That you are a good five minutes too late for his shit." He was apparently ignored as Sherlock's nails scratched along John's sides. "Shit, fuck." He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the small bit of pain. It had been unexpected.

Sherlock was busy in his own little world and once more reacted in a delayed fashion. He lifted his head and arched a brow. “Still no good?” He was usually so cocky and confident, he didn't know how to feel about apparently being terrible at all things sexual related. Maybe he should just go back to wanking off in the shower. At least that didn't leave him disappointed.

John shook his head. "No, its fine." He didn't want Sherlock to stop what he was doing. He leaned forward and kissed Sherlock briefly on the lips. "More than fine," he assured him. Things had gone rocky earlier but it was obvious his master was trying. "Do you ah- want me to help you?" He offered, pushing up and rubbing his belly against Sherlock's cock. He let his hands drift down Sherlock's back, reaching down and grabbing his arse.

Sherlock closed his eyes at the brief kiss. “Yes please,” he moaned out when John rubbed against his erection. He moaned again when his slave gabbed his arse. What had he been doing again? John distracted him quite easily at times. Right. He leaned his head down and began to suck on John's other nipple. He rubbed his cock against his slave's stomach with a little more force, trying to get more friction going.

John nodded and reached up to kiss Sherlock again, putting one hand on the back of his head to keep him close. He rubbed his torso up against his master, to give him more friction. His other hand rubbed Sherlock's arse, surprised at his master's reaction. He pushed into the plump flesh, squeezing it tightly. He gasped and moaned again when Sherlock switched sides and sucked on his other nipple. "Fuck, Sherlock." He broke away from the kiss for just a second

Sherlock continued to moan, as he licked John's nipple. God, he could be shagging his slave right now, but instead he was grinding against John's stomach. It would have to do for now he supposed. “Squeeze my arse tighter,” he murmured into his slave's skin. He finally stopped licking the nipple and moved to kiss John on the lips once more, his tongue darting forward almost instantly so it could writhe around inside his slave's mouth.

John complied, putting both hands on Sherlock's arse and squeezing tightly. He pulled his master's cheeks apart as he continued to knead Sherlock's skin. One of his fingers moved between Sherlock's cheeks and rubbed around his rim, just pressing slightly. He wasn't going to finger him without lube, but hr had enjoyed the feeling on his rim so maybe Sherlock would too. Besides, after the teasing Sherlock had done earlier he deserved to have the favor returned.

Sherlock felt his breath hitch and he had to break the kiss, when his slave's finger played around with his rim. “Th-that...yeah...do that more...” Christ. Had he just stuttered? He cleared his throat, hoping John hadn't noticed but that seemed extremely unlikely. Just keep distracted. He continued to rub his cock against his slave's stomach, trying to concentrate on that and not on the fact that he felt like a bloody idiot.

John nodded. He squeezed tighter before pressing harder onto Sherlock's rim. He ran his finger around the edges and wanted to push in. "I want-..." He started and then broke off, distracted by the kiss and the noises Sherlock was making. "I want to fuck you.” He wished to God that he could get hard now. He knew it wasn't going to happen. He would have to try it later when he and Sherlock could both get hard again. He pressed up into Sherlock again, willing him to go ahead and come.

Sherlock smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “I would quite like that,” he admitted. He was curious about receiving and giving, but if getting fingered there without any entry felt wonderful he could only imagine that actual penetration would be even more glorious feeling. With everything going on and his mind running rampant with ideas once more, he came with a loud moan. He made quite the mess and he smirked again. “Might have to take another shower together it looks like.”

John smiled back and rubbed his finger against Sherlock's hole again, pressing hard until Sherlock came. More come splattered on John's chest with his own that was still streaked on where the sheet hadn't been able to wipe it away. "Yeah, do you actually need one?" John teased, laughing as he pushed his master off of him. He was sticky and was fidgety thinking about what he was going to do tonight.

Sherlock gave a wry smirk. “As a matter of fact, I think I do.” He rolled off John and then off the bed. He didn't bother putting clothes on and merely walked to the spacious bathroom. “Is there anything you want to do on your little day off John? Something you don't usually get to do as a slave?” He started the water and spoke a little louder so he could be heard over the sound of the bath, “I saw you eye that Jacuzzi on the way in.”


	12. Chapter 12

"Absolutely fucking nothing sounds pretty good to be honest." John sat up slowly and followed Sherlock into the bathroom. He thought about the question a bit more seriously. What did free people do in their free time anyway? Shopping or movies or what not? They had hobbies. His master had his experiments in any case, but he could hardly think of anything. "I think I could fit the Jacuzzi into my plans." He wondered what it would feel like. He knew it was hotter than the normal bath and had jets and bubbles and things like that. He couldn't understand the appeal, but he knew there had to be one.

Once the water was hot enough, Sherlock stepped under the spray of the water. “You'll be able to do more of what you want, when I am at Uni and am in class. You will still have your usual chores of course, clean the flat and that sort of thing but honestly, as long as your stuff is done I don't care what you do while you wait on me to get out of class. Just make sure you pick me up on time.” He gave a small smirk.

"Its not like picking up after you is hard or anything," John said sarcastically with a bit of a smile. He would have a ton of free time though. No extra chores except for what he had to do with Sherlock. He could work on reading and writing more, something else that had stopped when he had gotten a bit older. He stepped into the shower with Sherlock. It was even bigger than the one they had back at the manor. "Thanks though," he said a bit more honestly.

Sherlock shrugged. John had been a good slave for him, he figured his slave deserved something for it. He would never admit such a thing. Sentiment wasn't exactly something he was good at it and on the rare occasion when he tried it usually came out horribly wrong. He picked up the courtesy bottle of shower gel. It smelled of vanilla and lilacs. Not something he would buy but it wasn't an unpleasant smell either. He squirted some on his hand and then began to lather up John's chest. He had like cleaning his slave in the shower last time.

John wasn't put off by Sherlock's lack of a response. He smiled to himself and stepped under the spray when Sherlock moved to grab the soap. He was about to ask his master if he wanted him to wash his hair again when Sherlock started to clean his chest for him. He hummed and tilted his head back into the spray. He didn't mind being taken care of at least a little. "Anything you don't want me to do later?" He asked, thinking about the role reversal.

“Surprise me. Do whatever you want.” Sherlock smirked. “That's kind of the point. I'll even call you 'sir' if you want me to.” He arched a brow, the smirk getting bigger. He was excited and curious about what John might do. Hopefully his slave was better at shagging then he was. He frowned, trying not to brood on it too much. He wasn't used to feeling insecure and he didn't like it. He scrubbed a his slave's chest a little harder, without even really realizing it.

John did his best not to react to that but failed. He nodded and looked down at Sherlock's hands that was still cleaning the come off of his chest. "I just don't want to push it too far on accident." He had never had power over someone like this. And well he wouldn't have any real power, but there was still a chance he would take it too far. "Just remember pirates, okay?" He probably should have used the word earlier. "I think you have it," he muttered as Sherlock started to scrub his chest harder.

Sherlock had lost himself in his brooding thoughts. “What? Oh right.” He dropped his hand. He had actually heard everything John had said and he shrugged. “I'm sure you will do fine John. I trust you.” Maybe he didn't show it but he did. He had even come to trust his own slave more than his older brother. But ever since Mycroft had left for Uni they had drifted further apart. Especially since his brother was becoming more like father. God, he couldn't wait to move out of the manor.

John grabbed the soap from behind Sherlock and lathered it up in his hands. He started to wash Sherlock's torso, getting the sweat and come off of him. "Thanks, Sherlock." He was surprised a bit at the declaration of trust. He meant of course his master would trust him. That was one of the things a slave was supposed to do. Be trustworthy and keep their master's secrets. But this felt a bit different. "Don't be so broody." He clapped Sherlock on the shoulder as his master continued to stare into space. "We are suppose to be on vacation."

John washing him brought him out of his thoughts and he was able relax into his slave's touch. It helped not to think so much at least. It gave him something to concentrate on and made it rather easy to stop brooding if he was going to be honest with himself. Sherlock leaned into the touch a bit, eyes closing as he gave a small hum of appreciation. He cracked open an eye, glancing down at John with a smirk. “Yes Sir.”

John reached around and cleaned Sherlock's back and his neck. He lingered on his neck, rubbing softly and smiling when Sherlock leaned into the touch. His master called him 'sir' and he felt himself stiffen and he inhaled just a bit. Damn, why was the idea so arousing? Was it just that Sherlock would have to listen to him for once? Not that it hardly mattered. The results would be the same. They would both get off in the end. It was just a different way to do that. "You'd make a god awful slave." He gave a laugh.

Sherlock bent his head further down a bit, quite enjoying his neck being rubbed. He couldn't help but laugh as well. “I would. I would be lazy and probably beaten a lot. I don't think whippings would motivate me. I'd be too stubborn too, I think. I would hate it and just sulk.” He gave a slight shrug. “I honestly don't know how you do it, let alone put up with someone like me.” He gave John another smirk. He could be an arse sure, but he didn't really consider himself that terrible of a master.

John smiled and bit his lip. He thought part of what Sherlock said was true, but not the part of stubbornness. He had been a slave awhile and he knew a few of the rules. One of them being that anyone could be broken. He had seen the most unruly people beaten into submissions over the years. Friends of his who used to talk about escape until their plans got out and they were beaten until they couldn't think of anything except for how to make the pain stop. And it stopped by finally listening. Sherlock probably didn't realize how bad a whipping actually was. "You' aren't so bad. I've seen worse." He gave a wryly grin, trying to hide his other train of thought. "Most people don't get to work for their best friend so that helps."

Sherlock nodded in agreement. He had seen his old man in action a few times. “Oh, do you now? I've heard he is a spoiled prat. Does all kinds of weird experiments. A real freak that one. At least, that's what I have heard.” He gave a shrug, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He knew what the other slaves thought of him and eventually he had just stopped listening or even caring.

"Oh he is. Don't misunderstand.," John said with a smile, laughing as Sherlock took himself down a few pegs. "Maybe not a freak, but he's definitely a prat. Can't even pick up his own damn towel." He began scrubbing down his master's back. "But he at least tries whenever he's not yelling at you due to his own sexual frustration. And to be honest he's not as smart as everyone thinks he is." He laughed some more. He smiled up at Sherlock before suddenly and roughly grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in for a desperate kiss.

“Oi, you aren't supposed to agree,” Sherlock tried to sound upset but he knew that damned smirk on his face gave him away. The rough grab and kiss were unexpected and it took a moment for him to realize what was happening. He wasn't used to being caught unawares and at the moment, he was quite enjoying it. He returned the kiss but decided to let John control it since his slave had been the one to initiate it. God, he wished he hadn't gotten off early. He found he enjoyed this side of John and only further made him curious what his slave would do when they reversed roles.

John ignored what Sherlock said as he deepened the kiss, feeling more desperate by the second. He still wasn't going to get hard anytime soon, but he needed this. Being close to his master in anyway. He pushed his tongue into Sherlock's mouth and kissed him thoroughly. He needed his master to be his as much as he was already Sherlock's. Even if it was just through this. He wondered what was coming over him and if it was just the idea of the role reversal getting to him, but it seemed like more. Not wanting to think about it he pulled back and broke the kiss. "We should finish getting clean," he said, his breathing heavy. He grabbed the soap and started to wash himself off.

Sherlock was left feeling a little breathless after that kiss. John was going to do that and just got back to washing up? Right. If his slave wasn't going to say anything about it then he supposed it had been nothing. Just one of those 'heat of the moment' things that happened in those ridiculous telly shows. But he was curious what had possessed John to do such thing. He stood, watching his slave clean himself trying to scrutinize information off of John just by looking at him.

John turned away to wash, but he could still feel Sherlock's eyes on him. He had to be curious about what that had all been about. Just desire right? They were sleeping together now. It made sense for some passion to boil over when they were together like this. Just sexual passion. He couldn't think about any feelings during this, especially not his own. He cleaned his front and back, not bothering to wash his hair which was still pretty much clean from this morning. He stood under the spray to rinse himself off and tried to think about what he should do to Sherlock tonight.

Sherlock was usually able to read people quite easily but right now he had utterly no clue what John was thinking. That was a bit disconcerting for him to say the least, especially after already doubting himself in the bedroom. He sighed. He thought the time away the manor would be good for them but all it was doing was making him second guessing himself and he didn't like it one little bit. He just wanted his arrogance and confidence back. Back to brooding then. He shook his head at himself and stepped out of the shower. He dried off quickly, his body still more wet then dry when the towel dropped to the floor. The bed was too far away and he laid down on the couch instead, his face towards the cushions while he pouted.

John sighed in relief as Sherlock got out of the shower. What was he going to do? Well he was going to get through the day and hopefully have amazing sex before the day was over. That seemed like a good plan. One he could follow. He followed his master out of the shower and dried himself off. He walked into the bedroom and was greeted with the sight of Sherlock laying on the sofa. It was a sight he had seen many times before if he thought about it. He rubbed his hair dry and walked over to his master's sulking form. He poked Sherlock's back with his knee."What's up with you?" He looked at the hot tub and then back at his master. He just needed a distraction, he figured and hoped.

Sherlock had heard the question but he didn't reply for a long time. “If I told John, you would either laugh at me or just not understand. So, it isn't worth sharing.” He didn't turn to look at his slave while he spoke. “Just do whatever you want and leave me alone.” Maybe he would just cut the trip short and go back to the manor and bury himself in an experiment. It would make for a fine distraction.

John only became more confused and a bit mystified. Things had been going good right? The had both gotten off and had showered together. They could take it easy for the rest of the day. He would convince his master to go get some food and then they could come back here and be ready for another round. He sat on the sofa behind Sherlock's legs. "You could always order me not to laugh. And no offense, its usually not me who has trouble understanding." He was even more curious than ever.

If Sherlock had been in a good mood that probably would have made him laugh or at the very least smirk. "Just leave me alone," he repeated. He was having enough trouble admitting his insecurities to himself, how the hell was be supposed to explain it to someone else? He still refused to look at John and kept his gaze firmly on the back of the couch. He didn't care if he looked like a child pouting for no reason at all, he was determined to sulk as long as he felt like it.

John shook his head. "Not going to happen." He wondered if Sherlock was going to allow the disobedience. His master sometimes did. When Sherlock was in a particular mood or when his master knew John was right about something. He leaned back into the sofa, pretending not to notice Sherlock's legs pressed between him and the sofa. "You can sulk but I don't really have anything else to do. You're stuck until you tell me what's going on." He pressed his back against Sherlock's legs and flopping into the back of the sofa with a bit of force.

A few days ago Sherlock probably would have shoved John off the couch but a few days ago they wouldn't be in a posh hotel together either. He sighed. "Stubborn git," he muttered. He stayed faced away from his slave and sighed again. "It's stupid. I'm...feeling insecure. So go ahead and laugh, I am sure its fucking hilarious to you." He turned further away from John, pressing his face into the cushions feeling like an idiot.

John didn't laugh but definitely paused for a moment with no clear reaction. "You're insecure." He deadpanned and possibly a bit rude. That just didn't make any fucking sense because Sherlock was the most secure person he had ever met. Meaning his ego was large and his master never lacked any self confidence to tell everyone exactly what he was thinking. "Is this about earlier?"He put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock thought for sure John would laugh. He was Sherlock Holmes for God's sake, he  _ didn't _ get insecure but now that he was in his head he couldn't get out of it apparently. It was not something he was used to. He just wanted to pout and do nothing the rest of the day. He wasn't any good at talking about things anyway. He closed his eyes and shrugged at the question. "It's nothing. Just leave me alone." Was he losing his touch? He had been distracted lately, he knew that. He could hardly stand to be around his slave. The solution had seemed simple enough. Shagging should have fixed the problem but it had only made it worse. "How do normal people deal with emotions John? This is getting ridiculous." He was more frustrated with himself at this point than anything. 

Sherlock shrugged him off again and John sighed. They were doing good and now his master was going to ruin everything with one of his sulks. It was ridiculous. Sherlock had brought them here and his master had wanted John to blow off all of his chores for him. Sherlock would face no consequences but he would. And now it was going to be for nothing. This tantrum could last all day if he didn't figure out what was wrong. And of course his master wouldn't tell him he would have to figure this out. "I don't know, Sherlock. Apparently talking about them helps though." He wondered if Sherlock was really throwing his whole fit because their first time hadn't gone well. "Sherlock you mess up all the time," he said and then spoke again quickly because he didn't want his master to get the wrong idea. "You botch experiments and get in trouble all the time. This was just anther botched experiment. One you should definitely attempt again now that you have more data."

Sherlock snorted at being told he messed up all the time. “I don't botch experiments, sometimes they just have...unforeseeable results. I do everything perfectly. It isn't my fault if something goes wrong.” He supposed John was right though, even though he refused to admit he was in the wrong. At least his arrogance and confidence were still in tact. He wasn't used to having either shaken like that. Right then. He rolled over and sat up on the couch, as if nothing had happened. “You said something about doing nothing all day, usually I would find that extremely boring but I suppose I could make an exception this one time. Just don't expect me to watch crap telly. If you are hungry, I can ring room service.” He probably wouldn't eat but it more than likely his slave would like to.

"Well this time it was your fault," John said, not willing to take any blame for what had happened earlier. He had to have standards when it came to dealing with Sherlock. He put a hand on his master's back when he sat up and rubbed gently. He was enjoying all the small contact he was having with Sherlock recently. "Fine no crap telly. Room service sounds nice though." He thought of how he always had to bring his master's meals to him. He wouldn't have to do anything like that today.

Sherlock couldn't really argue with that but for once he didn't have a snappy comeback either. He closed his eyes, savoring the hand on his back for a bit. The telephone was all the way over by the bed on the nightstand. He didn't want to get up and move just yet. This was rather relaxing. All the contact lately had been quite enjoyable. He wasn't sure why something so simple was so calming but he found it soothing nonetheless.

John rubbed Sherlock's back more, noticing how his master leaned into his touch. He probably enjoyed this as much as John did. Probably more seeing as how effected Sherlock had been from his touch. He scooted closer and placed his lips on his master's bare shoulder, kissing softly. He wasn't trying to start anything, just enjoy the fact that he could now. Besides, he had seen himself in the mirror. He was covered in love bites. He could return the favor. He lifted his head and sucked on Sherlock's neck.

“God John,” Sherlock murmured when he felt the light kisses on his back. He tilted his neck for his slave. Christ. Lips on his skin shouldn't feel so wonderful but it did. His eyes remained closed, just taking in the fantastic sensations. There was no way he would be able to get a hard on so soon, but that was fine because it meant he would be able to enjoy the wonderful attention John was giving to him without worrying about getting off as soon as possible. He was going to take it all in for as long as his slave would do it.

John smiled and marked Sherlock's neck and then went down to mark his collar bones and chest. They needed to get dressed and order some food but it could wait for another moment. His hand held the back of his master's neck and rubbed gently, the other one resting on his thigh. When he felt like he had left enough marks, he pulled back and smiled at Sherlock, his mouth a bit dry now. His master still didn't look near as covered as he did but it was start. "You were gonna order us some food," he said with a large smile on his face.

Sherlock 'mmmed' a few times while John made marks all over his body. He smirked when his slave finally finished and spoke. “Indeed. Seems a certain slave distracted me.” The smirk got bigger but he got off the couch. “There should be a menu to order from. I won't be eating but feel free to get whatever you want.” He walked over to the telephone, pulled it closer to the bed and then laid down. He stretched his limbs a bit and then placed his hands behind his head while he waited for John to pick out some food.

"Like you didn't enjoy it." John leaned back into the sofa and watched Sherlock walk away. They really should get dressed or something. Not that he didn't like the idea of laying around with his master all day in the nude. He got up and picked the menu off of the night stand, poking through the menu looking for something good. "Hmmm a gourmet burger," he said first, not understanding how it could be gourmet. "Chocolate cake, nachos and some pop I guess. Nothing for you?" He threw the menu onto the bed.

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at the list of food and then shrugged. “I won't need to eat again until tomorrow evening or the day after in the morning. I'm fine.” He reached over and grabbed the receiver, hitting the button that would direct him to room service. He ordered and then hung up. “They'll bring it up in about twenty minutes.” He stretched once more and stood slowly. He didn't feel like redressing but he supposed he should put something on. Proper decorum and all that. He went to the bathroom and got one of the long, white robes it had to offer. He slipped it on as he walked back out to where John was. “Are we really going to do nothing all day?” He frowned at the thought, as he loosely tied the robe into place.

"Yeah but you usually don't exercise this much." John put his jeans and t-shirt back on, figuring he would save Sherlock from opening the door in the robe he was wearing. He would hardly wait for the food. He was going to gorge himself for the first time in the while. He spent a lot of time wondering if he could even get full anymore, but he was surely going to try today. He laid back on the bed and waited for the food, turning his head when Sherlock spoke. "Yeah, I suppose." He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his master. "What did you have in mind? Besides fucking that is."

Sherlock shrugged off the teasing, but a bit of a smirk was on his lips. He slumped back onto the couch because it was closer than the bed. “To be honest, I have no idea.” He spent so much time reading or working on experiments in his lab, that he didn't know what to do with himself outside the manor. He didn't go out much, unless his parents forced him too. Lately he hadn't been invited to social events though, as he usually caused to much of disturbance with doing something or other that wasn't prim and proper. He didn't mind though, he hated going to those things anyway. “We could go looking at cars and pick up a mobile for you, if you want.” That would mean getting dressed though.

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," John admitted, thinking about sports cars again. Hopefully Sherlock would let him have some input on which one they got. As for mobiles, he knew a lot less about that. He was sure it would take him a while to figure out how to use it. The few times he had used his master's laptop had been a mess. He couldn't type to save his life and he often ended up on sites he didn't want to be on. Sherlock would probably get him a hopelessly complex mobile. "Waste some time and we could grab dinner later." He knew Sherlock would eat even later, but hewould certainly be hungry by that time.

Sherlock nodded. “All right. After the room service we will go out.” That would mean getting dressed though, but he could worry about that after John ate. If John wasn't his slave, it would almost be like going on a date he supposed. They were already breaking enough rules as far a master/slave relationship went but he and John were casual. It was just some shagging and nothing more. He sighed and just ignored that thought process completely. That was some dangerous territory to even think about treading in. He heard a knock on the door. “John, I know it is your day off but will you please get that. There is money in my wallet to tip him.”

John was already half way up when Sherlock spoke. He hadn't even considered letting his master getting the door. That was just ridiculous to him. "Of course." He looked over his shoulder to smile at Sherlock. He grabbed the wallet off the nightstand and took out a few bills before answering the door. They had brought a fricken cart. All the food he had asked for and a large bottle of pop with two glasses. He thanked the waiter and handed him the bills before shutting the door quickly. The food smelled amazing. He dragged the cart back to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He pulled the smallest lid off first and was not disappointed to see cake. He didn't even bother with a fork. He picked up a piece with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. He gave a appreciative hum and picked up another piece, turning to Sherlock. "C'mon. Try some." He held the bit of cake right in front of his master's mouth.

Sherlock frowned at the offered food. He wasn't particularly hungry. Food and sleep were just things necessary for transport and he didn't see the point in wasting time on them, but this was a day off and he was already wasting all kinds of time as it was. So, he ended up eating the piece of cake. Well, he could at least make things interesting. He smirked and licked John's fingers clean as well, sucking on the digits just a little longer than necessary.

John smiled as Sherlock gave in to his offer. His smile turned into a smirk as his master made sure to get every bit of frosting off of his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and ran them briefly along Sherlock's lips. He popped another bit of cake into his own mouth, not bothering to wipe his master's saliva off of his fingers. Honestly he had tasted worst bits of Sherlock in the pass twenty-four hours. He propped himself back up on the headboard and made quick work of the cake. "Have you had any messages from home?" He moved on to the next plate of food.

Sherlock shrugged, he hadn't even paid attention to his mobile much since they left. He searched around for a bit until he found his trousers, fishing out his mobile from a pocket. “Apparently I have. Most of them are from Mummy and one from father.” He frowned at that. His father almost never sent him messages. He read the one from his father first. “I am to see him immediately when we get home tomorrow.” Bloody fantastic. He could already hear his old man yelling at him for being irresponsible and any other number of things his father thought he did wrong on a daily basis. The one's from his Mum were mostly expressing worry and concern. He didn’t bother to reply to any of them.

John frowned and shuddered at that. If Sherlock was getting threats like that then he was probably fucked. "Could tell them you're okay," he suggested, wondering what his folks thought they were up to. Had they guessed that Sherlock had taken liberties with him or however they would phrase it. Or maybe they just thought his master was doing something stupid again and had dragged him along. It wouldn't be the first time. "I'm sure your mum is worried." He shoved a crisp covered in cheese into his mouth. The food was more than excellent. Nearly as good as Mrs. Hudson's at home. The good stuff though. Not the stuff they fed the slaves.

Sherlock pouted at John's suggestion for a bit and then sighed in resignation. “I guess I can at least send a message to my Mum.” He sent a quick message saying he wasn't dead and to stop worrying. He tossed his mobile somewhere onto the floor, not caring if he was sent another message back. He wanted to just lay around and brood but he had done enough of that for the day. Instead, he stood and undid the robe. He let it fall to the ground as he began getting redressed, so he would be ready to go when John was finished eating. That and it would give him something mindless to do, for a little bit anyway.

"You should." John thought anything at this point would help them get in less shit. They would be lucky if Sherlock's dad didn't send someone out to look for the two of them. He did have a tracker on him. Technically only his master was suppose to be able to trace him, but he was sure Sherlock's dad could manage something as easy as that. He didn't even try to fight his gaze as his master stripped in front of him. His eyes went to Sherlock's arse, taking in the sight. His master was lean but not very muscular in most places. Not displeasing though.

Sherlock took his time dressing, not realizing John was looking. He was too busy trying to stay out of his head. He had actually resorted to reciting the entire periodic table by atomic mass mentally. Every once in awhile his lips would move but no sound came out, as he mouthed his thoughts. He continued to recite the elements, even after he was fully dressed but eventually he finished and he focused back into the present. He glanced over to John, to see if his slave was ready to go or not.

John ate quickly as he always did and watched a bit worriedly as Sherlock began to mumble something to himself. His master did that when he was trying to distract himself. Sherlock usually used the elements or some sort of number sequence to help keep his head busy when he didn't want to think about something. "Hey you okay?" He stood up and coming to stand by his master. He had finished eating and had some remnants of cheese on the corner of his lips.

Sherlock shrugged. “Just trying not to think about whatever father wants to talk to me about. I knew he would be upset with just leaving without notice like that but I didn't think I would get a lecture. I hate having to listen to him prattle on.” He managed a smirk as he noticed the cheese. “Got something on your face,” he murmured as he leaned to lick it off and then kiss John on the lips. He bit down lightly on his slave's bottom lip before pulling away. “Hmmm, I don't think I got it all,” he mused and kissed John again, letting this one last longer.

John was about to tell Sherlock he had nothing to worried about, but before he could his master was kissing him. He licked at his own lips when he pulled away, trying to get any that perhaps Sherlock had missed. His master leaned in for another, but his comment made him laugh. He kissed Sherlock for a moment, small giggles coming out, until something occurred to him and he had to pull back to laugh even harder. "That was really cheesy," he said between laughs, not even hiding that he was loosing his shit over a very bad pun.

Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes. “Don't be an idiot John,” he muttered but he allowed a faint and very brief smirk touch the corners of his lips. Hopefully John would realize he had been teasing and not take the comment seriously. He saw his mobile on the floor and looked up the nearest car dealership and mobile shop. He committed the addresses to memory and he put the mobile away in his trouser pockets. “Ready to go?”

John just laughed harder, overly amused with himself. He kissed Sherlock briefly again as he finally stopped laughing, not even caring that his master didn't find it as funny as he did. He slipped on his shoes as Sherlock did something on his phone (he was always doing something on that thing) and pushed his hair down with his hands. "Yeah." He turned towards his master with his hands in his pockets. He was enjoying wearing the jeans and jumper as apposed to the uniform. He didn't look like a posh git anymore.

Sherlock nodded and made sure to pick up the room key and his wallet. It would have been very annoying to get locked out without his money and identification. He led them out of the room finally and down the lift. “Do you want to look at mobiles or automobiles first?” It didn't matter to him either way. Without really thinking about it, he reached over and took John's hand in his. He was missing the contact already and enjoyed the tangible connection they seemed to be constantly sharing all day.


	13. Chapter 13

"Automobiles." John was glad the weather was nice outside. He was much more excited to look at them than mobiles. "I figured you would just pick out whatever mobile you wanted me to have. I won't be using it much anyway." He gave a small shrug, trying to think of any contacts he would have other than Sherlock. Would there be other slaves at uni? Might be a decent way to make some friends while his master was in class. He squeezed Sherlock's hand when he felt it slip into his.

Sherlock nodded and got them cab. He returned the squeeze and snuggled into John when they were in the cab. He gave the address he read from the mobile. “What kind of car do you want? Not sure it will be bought today but we can look and get an idea. Whatever is fine, I don't care about looks or anything. You are the one who is going to be driving it. I am merely using it for convenient transport.” He gave a slight shrug.

John couldn't help but roll his eyes at Sherlock's lack of interest. He cared so much about looking good, he though his master would care a little bit about what kind of car he was scene in. "What about a Jaguar? Or a Ferrari?" He rattled off, thinking of the cars he saw on the telly and in the magazines he had saved from being thrown away. "Not a Porsche though. I don't think you want to be seen in a chick car." He put his arm around Sherlock so that his master's head was resting on his chest. "Audi's are pretty nice too."

Sherlock listened to John talk about cars. He buried his head a little more into his slave's chest, as he thought for a moment. "When did you learn about cars?" He asked curiously. He knew the basic mechanics and how they worked but he didn't know the difference between them. "Like I said, whatever you want. They all look the same to me." He gave a another shrug.

John shifted a bit uncomfortably. He knew a bit about the cars from the telly, but he didn't get to watch it that often and Sherlock probably knew that. "Magazines. Your dad has a subscription to an auto magazine and me and some of the other boys dig them out of the bin when he's done. And then I read them out loud." He was ashamed to admit he dug in the bins in stuff, but at least he had some pride in being one of the only slaves who could read. "Or we all just take turns and look at the pictures."

Sherlock arched a brow. "You know I don't care that you do that but if Father catches you and the other slaves, there will be hell to pay and I won't be able to protect you from him." He had intervened on John's behalf a few times when he could but had never really told his slave that. He wasn't sure how John would react to it, so he had just kept it to himself.

"But he had thrown them away!" John said, a bit loudly then he intended. That was so stupid. They were unwanted. What did Sherlock's father care if he and the other slaves used his trash to entertain themselves? "Its hardly illegal to steal trash." There was no point in getting worked up over it. They hadn't got caught yet. Master Holmes hardly came down to the slave quarters anyway so it wasn't like he would be looking for them. 

Sherlock frowned at John's outburst. "I know. Father has stupid and outdated ideals about how slaves should be treated. He hates the fact you can read and write." He gave sigh at that and shrugged. The cab came to a stop and he sat up. He paid the driver and got out. Some salesman in a horrible blazer approached them. "Go away. I don't care what you have to say. I do not need or want your input." The man frowned and then left to go help someone else.

"Well he can't make me forget." John had learned before he was even Sherlock's so, what did it matter? His master had just mostly supplied him with the materials to practice and he felt he was more useful being able to read and write for Sherlock. He stepped out and his jaw dropped at the sight of all the cars. Expensive cars too. The lot was beautiful. He snorted when his master drove the salesman off and ran forward to look at the different cars. His eyes immediately fell on a black jaguar. F-type S and nearly ninety thousand pounds. He whistled but knew it wouldn't be a problem. Probably. Sherlock's family was richer than Midas or something like that.

Sherlock followed after John leisurely, barely taking notice of the cars. "That the one you want?" He glanced at it briefly. It didn't seem all that impressive to him but John seemed to like it judging by the way his slave was staring at it. He checked the window for the information on the car, only really caring about the price. Expensive but it should be doable. Usually he wouldn't bother discussing purchases with his parents but he didn't want to have to deal with a lecture and less to do with it was the polite thing to do.

"Yeah." John remembered what he had read about them in last months magazine. "She's got a supercharged engine and a top speed of two hundred and fifty kilometers per hour." He was practically drooling over the car. The salesman looked at them a bit suspiciously. Probably thought they couldn't afford it. Ha. He stood by his master and looked through the window to read the rest of the specs. He wish he understood more than he actually did. The magazines were more about selling cars and less about specifications and details.

Sherlock shrugged a little at what John said. "I'll take your word for it." He sighed. "I should probably talk to father before making a final purchase." The thought irked him but he figured he would already be getting quite a the tongue lashing for disappearing for a day. Maybe by 'being a responsible adult' he would earn some form of favor he usually wouldn't care about but... He sighed again but then shrugged it off.

"You think he'll say no?" John pulled away from the car and looked at Sherlock. He could easily try to pick out something a bit cheaper. That was if his master's dad wanted him to have a car at all. But he would need one for uni so that shouldn't be an issue. "Or are you just trying to get some favor back from him since you're disappearing today?"

Sherlock smirked at John. His slave knew him so well. "He could say no, just to be an arse or 'teach me a lesson'. But if I talk to Mum. She can probably change his mind for me if I asked her too. But yes, you are correct. I am trying to avoid a long lecture I am sure is coming. They are always so boring and I end up not listening half way through."

"I'm surprised you listened from the start." John gave a laugh and a smirk. He would laugh about Sherlock getting an earful for now and forget any of his own punishments that might be coming. His master said he would protect him, but sometimes that just made him feel worse. He shouldn't get in trouble in the first place for doing his job.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but there was a smirk on his face. “Did you want to look at any of the other cars?” He hated shopping but John had said something about taking their time for a night of dinner and he could suffer through the boredom and monotony of it all he supposed. It wasn't so bad with John to at least talk to and keep him a bit occupied. Shopping with his Mum was awful though and he avoided whenever he could.

"Do you?" John asked with a smirk, knowing how Sherlock hated shopping. He hardly ever did it except to get things for experiments. He supposed the sex toys counted for that in a way. He walked around the car lot, glancing in windows and looking at price tags. They were all ridiculous, but he didn’t even care. They were cool and fun to look at. Occasionally he would start spouting statistics he knew to Sherlock or just mostly to himself. Either way he looked excited to be knowledgeable on something.

That earned John another eye roll, but Sherlock followed him around the car lot anyway. He half listened to what John said, if only to be a bit polite and not out of any real interest in the cars themselves. His slave seemed to be enjoying himself so he decided to just continue humoring John until his friend decided he was done with the lot. He could tell the car salesman was still watching them but he honestly didn't care.

John finished looking at the last car that had interested him. It was a older Volkswagen that he quite liked, but he imagined Sherlock would want a newer car. This one didn't get the speed the Jaguar did anyway. He stood up straight and eyed with salesman with a big of annoyance. "You would think we were busting windows." He frowned, turning back to his master. "So mobiles then?" He felt a lot less enthusiastic about that. Maybe Sherlock would get a kick out of knowing everything about those. His master was always on his mobile after all.

Sherlock smirked at John's comment. “Obviously since we are young, we must be delinquents up to no good.” Oh thank God. They were finally leaving. He nodded and led them back to the street so they could get another cab. “What kind of mobile do you want? Something fancy like I have or just something simple with basic functions?” It didn't take long for a cabbie to pick them up and he gave the address. He leaned into John, once they were seated.

John laughed at Sherlock's comment and followed him into the cab. They seemed to have permanent positions for this now, not that he minded. He liked having Sherlock in his arms. "I figured you would pick it out. I really just need it so you can call me right?" He remembered the original reason his master was buying him the phone. "I can't even use your computer. I doubt I would be much good with an expensive mobile."

“I prefer texting,” Sherlock muttered absently. “I will just get you a mobile for functionality then.” He gave a small shrug and then glanced up to John. “I can teach you how to use it. Well, I can get you one of your own to use and learn off of. I have important things on mine.” Mostly just notes on documents and few things he _shouldn't_ have that were certainly not legal, but he kept them all encrypted and buried deep in his computer. He didn't want John to accidentally delete or corrupt any of his important files. “Shall we add that to our list of things to get you?”

"Of course you do." John wondered how long it would take him to learn how to type on a tiny phone. By the time he was able to text Sherlock that he was coming he would already be there. He smiled to himself, but figured he would learn fast enough. "You want to get me my own laptop?" He was trying to figure out what he would even use it for. He supposed there would be new things to read online. Or maybe games or something? He could use a computer for that, although his master never did. "Aren't your parents going to object to these gifts soon enough?"

Sherlock shrugged. “The car and mobile are to meet my services and needs. They won't be able to really argue about it. The clothes, I'll just say you needed new ones. 'A good Master makes sure his slave is taken care for, long as they take care of him.'” He mocked his father's voice as he recited one of the many 'rules' to being a 'good Master' that had been drilled into him all his life. “The laptop, I don't know. I'll lie and say I need a new one. Got a virus that corrupted all the data. As far as the sex things, I'm just an adolescent exploring his sexuality. They probably won't even question that.” He smirked up at John, obviously pleased with himself for finding reasons for everything he bought.

"They're going to think your favoring me because of the sex thing." John frowned. Which was ridiculous mostly because Sherlock had always favored him. They had always been friends and that's why his parents didn't care for him at all, especially his dad. He laughed as Sherlock mocked his father. "Please tell me where I can find this good master." He snorted, squeezing his master around the middle lightly to show he was kidding. He knew he was lucky with Sherlock. As lucky as one could be in this situation. Sure it kind of wrecked his relationship with other slaves, but they didn't have a master who was actively making sure they were happy.

Sherlock snorted. “If they didn't know I favored you already, then my parents are idiots.” They weren't of course but he supposed John had a point. He smirked at his slave's next comment. “I'm not sure. There certainly isn't one anywhere around these parts.” He stay curled into John's side, finding it rather comfortable. Despite some of his brooding earlier, today was turning out rather well. He was glad they had decided to just ditch responsibilities for a day.

"I don't think I've had a good master since I was what? Eight?" John tried to remember the age he had come to live with Sherlock. It had been forever ago to the point it felt like he had lived with Sherlock all his life. He did remember some things about his old life. His parents and his sister. But he tried not to think about it. He wasn't going to start thinking about looking for them or anything. They were either fine or they weren't and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He curled right back into Sherlock, wondering how he had missed that his master would like to cuddle

“You were eleven,” Sherlock corrected automatically. He had been given John when he was ten and his slave was bit older than he was. He groaned when the cab came to stop, it meant having to get up. He did anyway, paid the cabbie and got out. “Do you even want to look at the mobiles? Or I can just pick you one out.” He shrugged and led them inside. Once more, he told the sales representative to get lost. The woman glanced at them hesitantly but then left. He didn't need help shopping. Jesus. Couldn't he go shopping without someone asking him a bunch of questions? Just another reason to hate it.

"Yeah something like that." John gave a dismissive wave of his hand. It wasn't like he even celebrated his birthday. He only knew how old he was now because he always just counted himself one year older than Sherlock. "I won't know anything about them." He walked into the store. One look at a place card told him he was right. He had no idea what 4G meant and what data usage was for. He hadn't even known people could get to the internet from a phone. "You should pick it out."

Sherlock nodded and tried to decide if a Blackberry or a Nokia would be better for John. Or maybe one that slid and had keyboard. He decided to get a Blackberry that didn't have a touch screen to worry about it. It had Internet on it but it was only 3G. Not that it really mattered since he doubted his slave would even use it anyway. He went to check out and when the sales rep tried to talk him into some unnecessary plan or other he rolled his eyes. “All I want to do is add this phone to my current plan. Just make sure it has unlimited texting, I don't need anything else with it be honest. So, just get the phone and add the plan so I can pay and go. I don't need you trying to sell me things I don't need or want.”

John looked at the mobile Sherlock had gotten him. That was basic? It had a sliding keyboard for fucks sake. Though he supposed that would be easier to type on than just using the number buttons. He wasn't even sure how that worked, but at least now he had a button for every letter. Sherlock was rude to the sales representative as usually and he couldn't even bother to correct him. The sales pitch was bad and it was obvious his master didn't need it. He grabbed the box and flipped it over, reading it as the sales clerk added his phone to the plan. He didn't understand anything but he might need to know it later. "Are you going to text me when I'm doing chores now?"

Sherlock didn't seem to notice that the sales representative was getting flustered by his remarks. He didn't even really realize he was being rude, he rarely ever did unless John said something about it. He just wanted the damn mobile without being told he needed other things he didn't care about. The teasing went unnoticed and he frowned at his slave. “Not sure that would be very wise. If father found out it would be an unnecessary beating for you most likely. We should wait until I go to Uni to use it.” After the sales rep made sure the mobile worked, he paid for it. “Here. I'll put my number in it now though, just in case.”

John rolled his eyes and decided it wasn't worth correcting his master. He had a point after all, and it wouldn't have taken long for one of the other slaves to run and tell someone who would tell Master Holmes. Not exactly a loyal bunch the lot of them, not that he could talk. He had spent his preteen years selling out his age-mates for sweets. "Yeah, wouldn't want him to take it away." He was still feeling it was ridiculous that he would get in punished for doing anything with Sherlock. He was still his after all. Everything would be easier if they were at uni. He took the mobile after Sherlock put his number in it. He held it in his hand a moment before slipping it into his pocket. "Thanks."

Sherlock nodded. “When you have time between chores, I'll show you how to use it when we are in my room.” He led them outside and he glanced around at the other shops around them. Perfect. There was an electronics store nearby. “Come on, this place down the way should have laptops.” He went inside and was happy when someone didn't pester him the moment he walked through the door. John wouldn't need anything fancy or expensive, like he had he figured. “You probably won't have time use the laptop while at the manor, but we can get it now anyway. Might as well since we are out.”

"I'm sure that will be a blast." John knew how good of a teacher Sherlock was. He had basically taught himself to read or practice anyway. He had known the basics. He followed his master into the electronics shops. Sherlock went straight to the laptops but he lingered in front of a gaming console. He had seen an advert for them in one of the magazines he had swiped. Not the car one, but a gaming one that had been sent as an advertisement. It had been thrown away as soon as it had reached the house. He watched the video of the army game before following Sherlock to the laptops. "I'll have plenty of time at Uni." He looked forward to how little his workload would be.

Sherlock didn't mind that John didn't follow right away and he looked at a few of the specs for the laptops. He continued reading them but spoke when John walked up. “Probably. I will be busy a lot, I imagine.” He gave his slave a slight smirk. “But I'll make sure to make time for you.” At the rate things were going, there was no way he would be able to keep his hands off of John for any real amount of time. It would make for a good distraction as well when he needed one. He picked out one of the mid-ranged priced laptops. “This one should be good enough. Nice sized screen, good enough  hard space memory and decent processing speed for whatever you plan to do with it.”

"Oh wow thanks." John laughed, knowing exactly what Sherlock meant. Their friendship was going to be reduced to sex and banter and he found that wasn't upsetting at all. He was actually looking forward to it, because hey at least he kept his master from brooding to much. Now if he ever claimed he was bored John could just initiate sex. He looked at the laptop and ran his finger over the track pad like he actually knew what he was doing. "Looks fine to me." He wondered how long it would take him to actually use it. "So I'll be able to play games and stuff?" He was still thinking of how he was going to spend all of his new free time.

Sherlock shrugged. “Yeah. I'm not all that familiar playing games on a laptop but I believe you have to pay for most of them. Free games are probably not that good I imagine. Things for free rarely are though. Do you want a mouse to use? They are usually better than having the useless pad the laptop offers.” He found having them on annoying and usually just turned it off.

"You mean you'll have to pay for them." John messed around with the laptop a little more. "I don't know," he said in response to Sherlock's question. It was flattering his master thought he had any idea about these things, but he really didn't. He could tell the difference between a mouse and a track pad, but not if one was better than the other. "I suppose if you think I need one, I do." He shrugged.

Sherlock shrugged as well and grabbed one from the shelf. “We'll get one. If you don't like it, then we can just unplug it.” He paid for the laptop and mouse. “We should leave this at the hotel before we go out to dinner.” He walked out of the store after the purchase was made. “Anywhere you want to eat? I probably won't be eating anything so wherever will be fine with me.” He got them cab and placed the box on the floor before sliding in.

John nodded and followed Sherlock to the checkout. The cashier at this place didn't seem to care as much about up selling so they got out of there quickly without his mater upsetting anyone. "If I was your parents I would be more upset about the taxi charges by now." He gave a dry laugh as Sherlock once again flagged them down a cab. They must have spent one hundred in cab rides already today. "You should eat more," he said for what must have been the thousandth time in his life. "How about Thai?"

Sherlock sighed at being told he should eat more. "Maybe I will eat tonight," he relented. He did like Thai food and it had been a few days since he had eaten a proper meal. Once more he paid for the fare, not even paying attention to the cost. A bell hop offered to take the laptop but he gave a firm 'no' to the hotel employee. He led them up to their room, placing the box gently on the floor. He pulled out his mobile to look up the nearest Thai restaurant.

John smiled and counted it as a win. Anytime Sherlock ate was a win for him really. He got in enough shit at home for not taking care of his master properly. Last he checked he was his companion slave, not his nanny or he guessed his personal slave. Still not a nanny though. He sighed when Sherlock didn't let the bellhop do this job. He could have taken it and then they could have gone and ate already. But he didn't say anything. Wasn't his place. He glanced to where his master had laid down the laptop and saw the rest of the bags. "Do you want me to restrain you tonight?"

Sherlock was confused for a moment but then he smirked. "If you want to. I told you, surprise me. I don't want to know what you have in mind." He shrugged. The whole reason for giving John control was so he didn't have to worry or think about anything. Just let someone else be in control for awhile and he knew he could trust his friend so there hadn't even been a second thought when came to the decision."

John nodded and tried to ignore the slightly off feeling in his stomach. Sherlock trusted him, but after what had happened earlier he was scared he would do something similar to his master. They had a safety word, but when he had been in pain earlier he hadn't even thought to use it. He was sure Sherlock would be more vocal, but he could still mess this up. "I'll try. Surprising you isn't easy."

Sherlock smirked. "I am sure you will do fine." He leaned down and gave John a quick kiss on the the lips, nipping on the bottom lip while he pulled away. Best not to start something before dinner. Or maybe they could. He supposed that would be up to John and not him. He was anxious and excited about it. He wanted to instigate further but managed to find some self control.

"Will I?" John said. Sherlock pulled away but he followed him into the kiss. He pushed himself into his master and reached up to hold the back of his head. He nipped right back at Sherlock's lip, not bothering to be gentle right now. He remembered they were suppose to be eating and pulled away, blushing a bit. "Do you want to leave?" He gave Sherlock a meaningful look. He could wait to eat he supposed.

Sherlock thought for a moment. He was used to giving John orders and conversely his slave was used to following them. He cleared his throat. "That...is up to you," a pause, "Sir." It was his way of letting John know now was fine if he wanted. Giving up control like that, had been harder than he thought it would be though. But it also sent a sense of exhilaration through him at the thought of his slave doing all manners of things to him.

Yeah they didn't need to eat right now. John surged forward again, attacking Sherlock with a hard kiss. If he was in charge he was going to take this moment to kiss his master as much as he wanted. He grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and pushed him backwards. He refused to break the kiss, and just kept pushing until his master was against the wall. He grabbed Sherlock's hands and held them against the wall. He pulled back from the kiss for just a moment. "Okay?" He asked in a small voice, trying to imply that this wasn't apart of the game.


	14. Chapter 14

Jesus. Sherlock followed John's movements and let his slave control the kiss. Before he knew it he was pinned against a wall. He panted a bit for breath when the kiss finally ended and all he could do was nod. It was more than fine, but he couldn't vocalize it at the moment. He wanted to pull John into another kiss but he couldn't. He had already given control over to his slave.

John couldn't help but grin when all Sherlock could do was nod his head. "You like this don't you?" He had been like this back with one of the girls at the manor. She had liked it. For him to take control and do everything for her. He hadn't expected his master to like it. He was always so on top of everything. The fact that he wasn't fighting against his grip was arousing in itself. He pushed forward, nipping at Sherlock's lips as he kissed him. He pushed one of his knees in between his master's legs and spread them apart.

Sherlock smirked. "Yes Sir." It was still strange to say that but he didn't pause that time at least. It was true too. It was nice to just let go. He gave a small moan when John forced his legs apart and returned the kiss, once more letting his slave control it. God, this shouldn't be so exciting but it was. He could already feel himself starting to get hard.

John moaned into Sherlock's mouth and pushed his tongue messily into his master's mouth. His master who was pretending to be his slave and was trusting him completely. "You shouldn't smirk at your master like that." He sounded far to serious for his liking and then pushed back into the kiss.  He let go of Sherlock's wrist and reached down to grab his arse. He remembered how his master had reacted to having it touched before and began to handle it roughly. That only lasted for a few moments until he decided he was sick of the fabric and reached to undo Sherlock's trousers.

Oh. John was good. "Sorry Sir," he murmured into the kiss and even made sure to avoid eye contact. He moaned again as his arse was grabbed. He fought the urge to buck into the hand undoing his trousers. Was he allowed to talk? He decided to risk it. "Please Master," he begged but not entirely sure what he was begging for. He was  finding it easier to slip into character the more John took control.

John smirked at Sherlock's quick apology. He wasn't bad at this, he thought as his hands worked quickly do undo his master's trousers. He pushed them down and grabbed Sherlock's arse again with just the thing fabric of the pants. Sherlock started to beg and John he him gently. "Shhh. Patience." He ordered, pushing his knee up and grinding it against his master's crotch. "This is for me Sherlock. Not you." He was trying to stay in character and also make a small point. Though it would seem Sherlock was getting more turned on by this than he would have thought.

Christ. John was going to drive him crazy in all the right ways though. He managed not to smirk at his slave's words and even bowed his head. "Yes Sir." Sherlock let John do whatever he wanted, breathing heavily. He really wasn't sure what he could and couldn't do. If anything at all. He simply followed John's lead, complying to all movements demanded of him.

John played with Sherlock's arse and kissed his master until he felt that this was no where near enough. He needed more. Specifically to see more of Sherlock. He thought about how he would look stretched out from the restraints and nearly came from the though. Very suddenly he stepped back from his master and looked at him for a few moments as if unsure what he was doing. "You should ah-" He breathed in as he looked over Sherlock who looked disheveled and still mostly dressed. "You should get undressed. Completely. And lay on the bed."

Sherlock had to stare at the floor to hide his smirk. "Yes Sir." He undressed, letting the clothes fall carelessly to the floor and then laid on the bed. What was John planning? He wanted to ask but figured that wouldn't be allowed. He watched his slave curiously though, trying not to let his mind run too wild with ideas.

John was buzzing with excitement and nervousness as he stripped off his jumper and jeans, leaving him in his pants and t-shirt. He rummaged through the bags until he found what he was looking for. Sherlock had bought two arm restraints that he could easily connect to the head board. He tore them out of the box and turned around. He made a small noise at the sight of Sherlock laid out on the bed. He had to control himself for no power on earth was going to be able to stop his master from smirking at him. He crawled onto the bed and grabbed one of Sherlock's hands and clipped it into the soft leather cuff. He pulled his hand all the way to the farthest bar on the headboard and tied to restraint. He pulled slightly on it to make sure it would stay before crawling over his master and doing the other hand. "Fine?" He just wanted to make sure

Sherlock felt his breath hitch as John cuffed him to bed post. “Oh God yes.” In his haze of arousal he had forgotten himself for a moment. He cleared his throat and amended his phrasing, “yes Sir.” He instinctively gave a tug against his restraints but then forced himself still. It was hard not twitch and writhe in anticipation but he managed somehow. He tried to guess what his slave would do next, but it was hard to tell. Usually that would upset him but right now it just made the appeal of whatever would happen even more exciting.

John pulled on Sherlock's other restraint a few times. When he felt confident that his master wasn't going anywhere (though he could probably undo them if he wanted to) he climbed off the bed and stared at Sherlock. He was so spread out and vulnerable. His cock was hard and he couldn't do anything about it. He smirked and stroked Sherlock's cock just once before moving on. He played with his balls for a moment and grazed his finger's between Sherlock's cheeks. He pressed in harder and pushed against the tight hole. Just because he could. "I think...I want to hear you ask for it."

Sherlock closed his eyes as he felt John do wonderful things to his body. He moaned when he felt his slave's finger. He fought the urge to smirk, successfully, when he heard John speak. God. His slave was doing a wonderful job right now. He opened his eyes and tilted his to look down at John but not directly in the eye. “Please Master.” How far should he take it? Should he beg some more? It was hard to know what was okay and what wasn't yet. They were still figuring this whole role reversal thing out.

John nearly moaned at the look on Sherlock's face. How was he so good at this? He didn't exactly show him model slave behavior. Rules like eye contact and names flew out the window, even in front of  others now. Everyone just kind of accepted it now. He swallowed and pulled his hand up to play with Sherlock's balls again. "I think you can do better than that." He leaned forward and licked the tip of Sherlock's cock. He had no plans on doing that again, but he wanted to hear Sherlock beg and wanted to push him towards the edge slowly.

Sherlock couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his lips that time but he made it disappear from his lips quickly. “Sir, please. Want to feel you pounding inside of me.” Had he gone too far that time? If he had, would John punish him? That would be exciting. He wondered how rough his slave would be comfortable being with him. Maybe not until later most likely. Although, John was doing a rather spectacular job at the moment of taking control.

John nearly choked when Sherlock spoke. Had he really just said that? He managed to smile in what he hoped was a confident or even triumphant way. "So you can listen." He leaned forward and placed his hands on his master's chest. He rubbed hard on his nipples and leaned down to kiss him. "Are you getting impatient, slave?" He moved his hips against Sherlock so that his clothed cock rubbed against his master's cock and balls. He hissed through his teeth at the friction and realized he couldn't drag this out much longer. Apparently he wasn't good at teasing or being teased.

For a moment Sherlock thought maybe he had said too much but then John was on him and grinding against him. He let out a moan. The answer to the question was  _ yes _ but he was supposed to be a slave right now and he was determined to stay in character. “No Sir.” A pause but then he added, “...I am here for your pleasure.” He couldn't believe he had just said that but he was committed to playing the role properly or the entire role play would fall apart. 

"Damn right." John couldn't help but smile at that. They were both playing roles, but he couldn't help but feel a little silly about the whole thing. Maybe next time he fucked him they wouldn't have to do this. Not that he wasn't enjoying it. He had never seen anything as beautiful as Sherlock laid out like this. He got off the bed and leaned over to kiss his master on the cheek. "You are going to be a fine personal slave when I'm done." He walked back over to the bags. He found the bottle of regular lube quickly and got back on the bed.

Sherlock felt John get off the bed. He wanted to look over at his slave but he bowed his head instead. “I hope I will be pleasing to you Sir.” He felt John get back on the bed. The anticipation was killing him now. He supposed he knew how his slave felt earlier when he had been the one doing the teasing. It was absolute torture, but in quite the most wonderful way. He didn't want to have to wait any longer but it wasn't up to him. It was up to John. Should he beg some more? It hadn't be asked of him, so he bit on his bottom lip to prevent himself from saying anything.

John crawled between his master's legs and tapped on his knees. "You have been," he said, in that faint praise tone he heard Master Holmes use almost constantly. Sherlock sometimes fell into it too when he was being extra dickish. "Spread yourself more so I can prepare you," he ordered, almost adding a please to that. He smirked to himself and opened the bottle of lube. He remembered how cold it had been earlier and rubbed it in between his hands before stroking Sherlock's cock a few times.

Sherlock arched a brow at John's tone of voice but he quickly dropped it back down. Damn. Staying in character was hard to do sometimes. “Yes Sir.” He spread his legs further for his slave and moaned when his cock was stroked. He could feel it leaking, the pre-cum trickling down his cock. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold out, but he needed to. Shouldn't John get off before him, since he was in the Master role? He really wasn't sure if there were rules for that. Probably. There were a ridiculous amount of rules he thought for slaves and masters.

"Good boy." John took his hand off Sherlock's cock. He was close. Closer than he had realized. He wondered if his master would even be able to hold out until he finished preparing him. It wasn't like he couldn't fuck him anyway right? Or would be to too sensitive? But if he was a master did that even matter? He shook his head to clear it and grabbed Sherlock's arse cheeks, pulling them apart. He grazed the outside of Sherlock's hole before pushing in slowly with one lubed up finger.

Sherlock closed his eyes when the finger entered. He had never felt anything like that before. It has his first time having any sort of penetration. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure, but he didn't mind it. He couldn't help but press up into the finger with a moan. Damn it. He was forgetting his role and he forced his hips still. “Sorry Sir,” he muttered. He wanted more already but he needed to be patient.

John shushed him as he pushed his finger in and out of Sherlock. He was so tight and hot. "Fuck, Sherlock." He managed to be more turned on by the sight of his finger going in and out of his master. He pulled his finger out and added more lube, not wanting to hurt Sherlock despite the role reversal. Most masters probably wouldn't be this careful (hadn't Sherlock proved that earlier?), but he wasn't really a master. He pushed two fingers into Sherlock now. He groaned and palmed himself with his other hand, needing some kind of relief. "You're taking it so well." He knew his master would like that. He twisted his fingers, trying to find the place Sherlock had touched him earlier. The touch that had gone straight to his cock.

Another smirk twitched on his lips at what John said but Sherlock made it disappear quickly once more. Christ. Two fingers. The lubricant made it easier to handle but he wasn't used to it either. Despite the discomfort it still felt good. “Th-thank you S-sir.” Fuck. He was stuttering now. He would never hear the end of that he supposed. His breath hitched and he moaned when John's finger slid near his outer rim. No wonder his slave had liked that so much earlier. He whimpered and he couldn't stop himself from begging either. “Don't stop Sir.” At least he didn't stutter that time.

John pushed his fingers in farther in, still trying to find the nub Sherlock had touched earlier. Honestly it had been the best part of the whole penetration bit earlier. Before his had gone and fucked it up by rushing. He smiled at Sherlock's stuttering, chuckling as he twisted his fingers in an attempt to get his master to relax and open up more. Sherlock spoke again and he stopped suddenly. He breathed deeply and palmed himself as he let Sherlock wait for just a moment, hoping this was tormenting his master as much as Sherlock had tormented him earlier. He looked up at his master with his eyebrow raised. "I don't think I heard you right, Sherlock."

Sherlock moaned when he felt the finger go in further. He wanted to lean up and kiss John for being so bloody spot on and taking command. He was enjoying it more than he thought he would. He had just been curious at first but damn, it was really working on him now. He decided me may have John take charge more often. “Please don't stop Master.” He was getting used to the sensation now and he had to fight with his body to keep his hips still. To help do that he began curling and uncurling his fingers for some kind of distraction. The movement caused the cuffs to rub against his wrists a bit but he didn't care.

"Much better." John pushed his fingers in and out faster. He smiled when he heard Sherlock moan, loving how he felt. He felt brilliant to be honest. To have his master who was never affected by anything to be coming apart by two of his fingers. He wasn't even touching his cock. He added a third finger, fighting against the stretch. "Tell me if this hurts," he ordered, putting his other hand on Sherlock's hip. He was still so tight, but obviously looser when they had started. And hopefully more relaxed. "Tell me how much you want it," he added, almost feeling bad for how much he liked to hear Sherlock beg.

It  _ did  _ hurt but it wasn't an unbearable pain and there was pleasure too. Long as he concentrated on that it made everything worthwhile. “I am fine Sir. Please keep going Master. Like feeling you inside of me.” He did too. Sherlock didn't care if he was begging. If begging made John do more wonderful things he would be more than willing to throw his pride right out the window. God, if fingers felt this good how would a cock feel? It would probably hurt more but that was fine because as the pain increased so did how wonderful it felt. He was beginning to realize he liked it a bit rough and wondered how far John would be willing to go with that. 

John practically glowed from Sherlock's words, pressing into him a bit harder. He couldn't ignore his own cock much longer at this rate. He palmed it through his pants and hissed at the feeling. No not long at all. He could only hope he didn't come as soon as he entered Sherlock. He pushed his fingers in deep, pulling them in and out steadily. He gave his master's cock a sympathy stroke before pulling away. He didn't want either of them to come too soon. "Are you ready?" He asked, his voice rough. He didn't even think to grab a condom or anything. He just knew he needed to fuck Sherlock now.

For a moment Sherlock had thought he had upset John by what he said but then his slave was moving the fingers in and out quickly. “Ah, fuck,” he gasped out as his eyes slammed shut. He nodded at the question. “Yes Sir. Please.” More begging but he didn't care. He wanted to feel Jonh's cock in him  _ now,  _ but he couldn't make that demand at the moment. His own was throbbing and still leaking. God, would he get off just thinking about his slave fucking him? His hips lifted fractionally in desperation and anticipation.

John groaned as Sherlock began to loose control. He was cursing and bucking against John's fingers, and John wasn't even going to stop or correct him. He pulled his fingers out of his master and quickly pulled of his shirt. He threw it to the ground and took off his pants, gasping in relief when the pressure on his cock was finally taken off. The feeling had been worth the pain. He looked up at Sherlock's face and leaned forward so he could kiss his master. They laid chest to chest for just a moment, as he kissed Sherlock aggressively. He rubbed his master's shoulders and biceps with his hands, wondering if they were sore. After just a minute he pulled away and got back on his knees. He held the base of his cock so he could line himself up. The head of his cock brushed in between Sherlock's cheek and then he finally and slowly started to push himself in.

Kissing. Yes. Good. Very good. Sherlock rather enjoyed snogging and God John was being aggressive. He moaned into the kiss and let his slave control it. He gave a small groan when the contact was lost but he didn't have much time to worry about it because he felt John entering. His eyes opened wide and his breath hitched. It had hurt more than he realized it would, despite the preparation that had been made. No wonder John had him stop last time, he had been extremely carelessly. He would know better for next time. He closed his eyes again, concentrating on breathing and ignoring the pain and only focus on what felt good. Because it did, once he had gotten over the initial shock of entry. “Feels good Sir. Please keep going.” It was his way of encouraging John not to stop while still remaining in character.

John went slowly, so worried about hurting Sherlock despite his own needs. He heard his master encouraging him and groaned, pushing in a bit faster until he was all the way in. He breathed deeply and tried to take everything in. Sherlock was to tight and hot and the pleasure was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He opened his eyes and looked up. He caught his master gaze and smiled at him, trying to read his expression. He had said it felt good right? "How does that feel?" He was breathing heavily already. He put his hands on Sherlock's hips to hold himself steady. After a moment, he pulled out slightly and pushed back in.

Sherlock moaned when he felt John slide all the way in. He was able to ignore the pain as long as he didn't think about it. Mind over matter, but he figured he would feel it later on during the day when he was trying to walk or sit. “So good Sir. God you feel fucking wonderful.” He wondered if they would get a better angle if he wrapped his legs around John but he supposed he didn't have that kind of freedom of movement since he was the slave right now. “Please keep going Master.”

"Language, Sherlock," John chastised weakly as he thrusted into Sherlock his master. He kept his pace slow and easy, despite how much he wanted to slam into Sherlock on every thrust. He hadn't messed up yet and didn't plan on ruining this. If he did he wouldn't put it his master to not let him do it again. Sherlock could be a real baby about things sometimes. "You are so fucking tight." He pushed into his master, sliding in and out of him easily. He moved him hands from Sherlock's hips to his arse, holding him up and closer to him so he could push in deeper.

Sherlock smirked faintly. “Sorry Sir.” He whimpered and moaned with every thrust, wanting to feel more of his slave inside of him. Maybe if he begged John he could get more. “Master, please go faster. Harder. Want to feel more of you.” When had he got so good at begging? If only his father...ugh...that was not something he wanted be thinking about right now. He quickly scrubbed that from his brain and went back to focusing on how good John felt.

John sucked in a breath as Sherlock's begging. He picked up his pace a bit, groaning as the friction became all that much better. He wasn't going to last long though. His consideration for Sherlock was crumbling and soon he was pounding into his master like he had asked for. "Fuck, fuck." He was still breathing heavily and gasping as he got closer to his climax. He leaned forward, pushing Sherlock's legs up uncomfortably, to kiss him hard on the mouth. He pulled back so he could push into his master harder and faster. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Sherlock moaned when the pace chanced. “Fuck,” he swore again and forgetting his place. He was going to regret this later but right now it felt good. His self control was getting poor and he began to rock in time with John's movements. It shouldn't feel so good considering the amount of pain that came with it. He was able to ignore that part though as long as he stayed focused. He returned the kiss as best he could, as he started to breathe heavily even though John was the one doing all the real work. “If it would please you Master, yes Sir.” He managed to pant the sentence out coherently and even in character.

"You ask so nicely," John praised. He grabbed Sherlock's cock and began to stroke in time with his own thrust. The motions were awkward to coordinate, but soon he had it. He was going to bring both of them to orgasm while his master was all tied up. He hardly got to do anything without Sherlock and now he had complete control and it was intoxicating. He couldn't help but lean down to kiss Sherlock again, pausing his strokes and thrusts for just a moment. He pulled up again and increased his speed. "Such a good...fuck." He breathed in sharply and closed his eyes. He pushed in three more times and emptied his sperm into Sherlock. He kept stroking, pushing hard into Sherlock as he gasped and shuddered.

Another smirk touched his lips. Sherlock arched up into the touch with a moan. So many wonderful things going on. And more kissing. Wonderful snogging, he didn't mind the momentary pause in the fucking. Shit. Everything felt so fantastic he couldn't help but come. He moaned out John's name, his body going pretty still after his climax ended. He continued to pant and gasp for breath, his eyes finally opening so he could look up at his slave on top of him.

John stroked Sherlock through his climax even after his own had ended. He closed his eyes at the sound of his own name on his master's lips and breathed heavily. When Sherlock finished, he threw his hands onto the bed to keep himself from falling awkwardly on top of his master. He breathed for a moment before opening his eyes. He saw Sherlock looked up at him, and he couldn't help but smile and chuckle. He pulled out of Sherlock, feeling the mess he had made. "I forgot a condom," he admitted, wondering how much of a pain that was going to be to clean out. He sighed and fell on top of Sherlock anyway, kissing him leisurely. He wondered if his time in charge was over and if he should untie his master, but for now he just wanted to enjoy the afterglow.

Sherlock smirked and shrugged. “Least you don't have to clean up the mess.” He was already getting his breathing under control and he returned the kiss readily. He tried to wrap his arms around John, forgetting about the restraints. He felt the tug and let his arms go limp again. “Jesus, you were amazing. Going to be feeling it for awhile I think.” He smirked, deciding it had well been worth it. Although, John probably wouldn't be able to shag again too soon. The thought was disappointing but he didn't want to over do anything.

John laughed. "I'm sure you'll make me help." He broke away from the kiss for just a moment. He put his hands in his master's hair, rubbing his scalp. After being a bit rough he really just wanted to make sure Sherlock was okay. That was his job after all. He smiled as the praised continued, wondering what it would take to keep Sherlock this happy all the time. He would fuck him every night if he stayed like this. "Mostly good feeling right?" He asked, knowing he had gotten a bit rough at the end. He worried even though his master had asked for it.


	15. Chapter 15

His eyes closed from the feeling of the hand in his hair. Sherlock smirked and opened his eyes to look up at John. “Very good feeling. I just had to concentrate on that and not focus on the pain.” He gave a small shrug. “Could you remove these now, please?” He gave a slight tug on his restraints. His wrists were probably a little raw but it was his arse that would be feeling the majority of the pain later. Maybe they could just order in from some place. He didn't feel like moving from the bed at all.

"Oh." John noted that Sherlock didn't complain about the pain at all. That wasn't like him at all. He complained about everything. Then his master said please which was even less like him and caused him to raise an eyebrow. He did get off of Sherlock quickly so he could undo them. "Yeah, sure." He undid Sherlock's wrists first. He could untie the restraints from the bed later. His master's wrists were rubbed a bit raw but not much. John took one of Sherlock's hands in his own and began to rub it and his wrist. He could imagine Sherlock's hands were probably feeling a bit tingly from being up so long. The blood flow could not be good like that. "Better?"

Sherlock noticed the eye brow quirk and he smirked. “Best to be polite, or you might leave me tied up all night.” He didn't really believe that but after quite the wondrous fuck he was in pretty damned good mood. The best he had been in a long time. Since he was kid probably. If he had known shagging would please him so much, he would have sought after it sooner. He wiggled his fingers to help get the circulation going again. “Yes, thank you.” He might even sleep tonight at this rate. Eating and sleeping. He didn't do either often but John was right, he might need to do it more if they continued on shagging like this.

"Now that's an idea." John smirked. He grabbed Sherlock's other hand and started to massage that one too along with his wrist. "I could leave you all night and then you would be ready to be fucked again in the morning." He gave a mischievous smile, looking at his master to gauge his reaction. He wouldn't ever actually do this. He would spend all night worrying about Sherlock's arms and shoulders for one, but the idea still had some merit too it. "I could leave you all day and would be completely dependent on your slave. Need me to feed you and everything."

Sherlock snorted. “Don't get carried away there John.” He knew his slave was teasing but he wasn't as amused as John apparently was, despite his good mood. “Fuck...I'm sore,” he muttered and shifted so he was on his side. Maybe that would help. He curled towards his slave though, pressing his head into John's chest a bit. “We are ordering in. I don't want to go out the rest of the night.” He stretched his arms above his head and wiggled his fingers a bit more. Still feeling numb and tingly. How long had he been restrained?

"Wouldn't dream of it," John lied with with a laugh, finishing up with Sherlock's hand. He rubbed his master's shoulder when Sherlock rolled into him. "Sounds good to me." He felt too good to argue about anything. He didn't really want to leave anyway. He had been out enough today. Probably more than he had been out in the pass month. His master stretched and he pushed him over gently into his stomach. "We can order in a minute." He knew he wasn't in charge anymore, but he had good intentions. He straddled Sherlock's lower back and began to rub his shoulders.

Sherlock was about to ask what the hell did John think he was doing but then the rubbing began. He groaned in appreciation and buried his face into the pillow. “Feels good,” he muttered into the silken sheets. God. He was going to have his slave rub him like this more often. He felt his body relaxing from his slave's touch. Damn. At this rate he would just go completely limp and sleep. It sounded like a splendid idea except he had promised John dinner.

John grinned and pressed harder into Sherlock's back and shoulders. He frowned as he thought of the only reason he knew to do this. Slaves had come to the house with stories of being tied up for days. They said the strain on their shoulders had been bad and their hands would lose feeling in them. Obviously his master hadn't been tied up that long, but he figured he would still feel a bit of the pull. "I liked it more than I thought I would," John admitted, thinking of how into the game they had both gotten. "Except the fucking you part. That was as great as I expected."

Another groan escaped his lips, but it was mostly muffled by the pillow. Sherlock turned his head so he could speak a little clearer. “Yes...I wasn't sure I would like it, but I did. Very much so.” He smirked. “The fucking was indeed great.” He let his eyes close but was determined to stay awake even though he felt like he could fall asleep any moment. It was an usual feeling, since he hadn't had a normal sleeping scheduling for the last few years.

John felt very content with the world as he massaged Sherlock's back. Maybe he was just a tiny bit proud that this whole thing seemed to go better when he was in charge. He would have a right to be after being ordered around his own life. He hummed in agreement to what his master had said, rubbing his back for another few minutes in silence. He patted Sherlock twice on the back to show he was done and rolled off of him. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Sherlock with a smile. "Better?"

Sherlock had just about drifted off to sleep but when he felt John get off him, his eyes fluttered open slowly. “Perfect,” he murmured. He missed the warmth and contact already but he was so comfortable, he didn't want to move. Moving might remind him of the pain as well, so he just laid on his stomach. “I think you fucked me into an almost coma.” He turned his head so he could look at John at least, a smirk on his lips.

"I'll take that as a compliment." John gave a satisfied smile. He leaned back into his pillows and rubbed Sherlock's head some more as he looked down at him. "I'm tired too for the record. Some of us actually had to moved during the whole thing." He wondered when was the last time he had felt so at ease with his master. Not since they were kids probably. "You want me to order the food?" He wasn't even sure if Sherlock would still want to eat.

Sherlock smirked again. He wondered if shagging would always be so amazing or if it just been so good because it had been his first time. Would he constantly compare future shaggings to it and get let down? Now was not the time to over think things. “Yes, that would appreciated. Just get me whatever you are eating.” He had never been a picky eater. Food was just food to him. While he preferred some foods over others there weren't many things he wouldn't eat either. Eating was only important for transport, to keep his body going.

"You got it." John stood up and got Sherlock's mobile. It was still open to the Thai place his master had looked up earlier, so he just selected to call that number and hoped they delivered. He ordered two dishes of green curry and rice, thinking the fridge in here would probably have something in it for them to drink. Hardly complimentary, but it wasn't like Sherlock needed to worry about the charges. He gave them the name of the hotel and the number and hung up. He walked back over and kissed Sherlock on his back. "You should put on pajamas or something at least." He went to one of the bags to grab some of his new ones.

Sherlock laid on the bed quietly as he listened to John order. “Well, if I had any pajamas I would but seeing as how I didn't pack any clothes for this little get away I don't have anything.” He gave his slave a bit of smirk. “Just bring me the robe, if you are worried about my modesty.” He wasn't really but it would be warm. It was getting a bit chilly being naked. He didn't want to try and move otherwise he would have had buried himself in the covers.

John picked up the robe and threw it onto the bed beside Sherlock. "Don't want to scare the delivery guy." He smiled as he pulled on pajama pants but decided it was too hot for a shirt. Apparently sex did that to a room. He went back over to the bed and curled up close to his master, throwing an arm over him and putting his face near Sherlock's neck. "Thank you." He hoped his master would cuddle back while they waited for the food.

Sherlock smirked. “Here I thought, I wasn't that bad of a looking bloke. I just think you don't want to share.” He did indeed cuddle into John, he had liked doing it in the cabs they had shared together. He draped an arm lazily over his slave's side. “Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?” The smirk returned. “You are the one who shagged me senseless.” He had known what John meant and had to shift, groaning from the pain but managed to get in position where he could give John a quick kiss on the lips.

"Its not that. No one should see your arse when its like this is all I'm saying." He laughed, pulling Sherlock in closer to him and into his arms. He breathed in, enjoying the smell that was just completely his master, concentrated from sex and sweat. "I suppose so." He didn't feel completely up to teasing Sherlock anymore. He yawned lazily. "You better get to it then." He put his head up and leaned forward so their foreheads were pressed together. He ignored the thick feeling that was building in his throat.

Sherlock grinned but didn't bother putting on the robe yet still, even though John had brought to him a few moments ago. He pressed their foreheads together a little more and kissed his slave on the lips again, having to tilt his head down just a bit to reach. The hand draped over John, trailed faintly along his slave's skin. At this rate, he didn't even want the food to show up anymore. He could just lay here with John the rest of the night and fall asleep in his slave's arms.

John didn't mind that Sherlock didn't answer. He was done with the teasing anyway. He knew what he wanted to say but, it was hopelessly sentimental. His master would either laugh him off or tell him to shut up in the rudest way possibly. Either way it wouldn't be good. So he kept his mouth shut and ignored the feelings in his throat and chest. He kissed Sherlock lightly and lazily, just enjoying the feeling of them being there. He knew he was his master's and that would never change, but the idea that it might go both ways was nice.

Sherlock was liking the lazy snogging, it didn't take any real effort but it still tasted nice. John was thinking about something he could tell, but he wasn't sure what. He thought about asking but that might ruin their nice moment they were sharing so he decided not. He groaned when there was a knock on the door. Was the food here already? He didn't want to stop kissing his slave. Instead of putting the robe on properly, he just threw it over his bottom half.

John sighed and pulled away from Sherlock. He grabbed his master's wallet and pulled on Sherlock's robe so it covered him better. He opened the door and paid for the food in cash and giving a large tip. He took the food quickly so he could go back to laying with his master. He walked and put the food on the bed before going over to the mini-fridge to see what was available. Pop, juice, and champagne. And a price list on the inside just to show how much they were going to charge for it. Ridiculously high. He sighed and grabbed the bottle of champagne, figuring they might as well. Plus he was curious, having never been able to try alcohol before. That had always been impossible to sneak out of the kitchen.

Sherlock groaned and slowly got to sitting position. Shit. It hurt but trying to eat while lying down wouldn't work out well at all. He arched a brow at the champagne. Hopefully it would be a good date. His father was quite the connoisseur in fine wines. He didn't drink often but he knew enough about it he'd be able to tell just by looking at the label. He was more interested in tobaccos himself but it wasn't something he got to study as often as he liked.

John shrugged at Sherlock raised eyebrow and smiled at him. "We might as well." He crawled onto the bed next to his master. He had been enjoying laying down, but honestly he was famished. He pulled the bag open, opened a carton, and handed it to Sherlock before fishing him out a fake plastic fork. Sometimes he caught himself taking care of his master in little ways like this and it threw him off. He really didn't need to do all these things. Sherlock could do them himself. But then supposed that defeated the point of having a slave. He grabbed his own food and took a bite before grabbing the bottle of champagne. It was a twist top instead of a cork luckily, so he opened it quick before taking a sip. That was interesting. He handed the bottle to Sherlock. He probably knew more about these things than he did.

Sherlock took the food and fork and began eating. It was pretty good. He tried not to squirm too much while he sat on his arse, because he figured that would make things worse and not better. He took the bottle and read the label first. Not too bad, for a hotel. He'd had better but his father could afford the best. He took a drink, it tasted about as he expected. Not excellent but not terrible either. “Decent enough,” he commented out loud and offered it back to John.

"I wouldn't know." John lifted the bottle and took another long drink. He didn't think he could get drunk off one shared bottle of champagne, but what did he know really? He ate his food, noticing how Sherlock squirmed every so often. "Is it that bad?" He gave a small frown, wondering if his master had lied to him. He had said it had been good, so maybe some pain was just unavoidable? That would make sense, figuring they were putting something in an exit only hole. He smirked at his own incredibly bad and crude joke.

Sherlock watched John take another drink. “Easy. You get drunk and you could end up with a hangover when we go home. I can see trying to explain that one to my Father.” He frowned at that thought but then shrugged at the question. “It's...fine...just uncomfortable sometimes.” A lie, it did hurt he just didn’t want to admit it. John had been fussing over him enough already tonight, although all the attention had been nice.

"You're a lot of fun." John took another sip out of spite and handed the bottle to his master. It wasn't like he was be able to act like this often. At home things had been so tense lately, but here he didn't even really feel like Sherlock's slave, just his friend. "If you're sure." He wondered if he should insist a little. His master somehow managed to be the biggest baby but also the worst liar when it came to things like this. Honestly it depended on his mood and the situation. "At the least I need to know for reference. Unlike you some of us will have to work after these escapades."

Sherlock rolled his eyes when John took another drink. He already had enough to worry about having to talk to his Father tomorrow, he really didn't want to add to the list. He shrugged. “It hurts, you rammed me pretty good, but I asked for it.” Another shrug. “Better if I don't sit on my arse at all, but can't really lay down and eat either.” He gave a third shrug. “I'll try not to fuck you so hard you can't walk.” He wasn't even sure if John would like it that hard, like he had.

John placed the bottle down and told himself he really didn't need a hangover, just like Sherlock said. As much as he wanted to get drunk just to say he could because he knew the other slaves would be jealous. It was a dumb reason, but he was a teenager. He listened to his master as he complained or just explained how much it hurt. "I'll thank you for it." He squirmed uncomfortably himself at the thought. "So you liked it then? The pain?"

Sherlock felt his face get hot. Jesus. Was he blushing? He was pretty sure that he had never done that before. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. I did actually. Probably sounds weird but...Jesus John when you took control and made me beg and everything I just..." He shrugged. "I go through my whole life controlling everything. It was nice to not worry about it for awhile." He wasn't sure if that made any sense but it was true.

John felt his face go equally red when Sherlock spoke to the point where he couldn't tease his master about his own blush. "It really did it for you." He was a bit surprised. Sherlock's reasoning didn't sound weird at all. He had liked taking control for almost the same reason in reverse. Plus it was nice just to be able to tell his master to shut up once in a while. "I liked it too though." He took another few bites of food and tried to appear nonchalant. "Me taking control, I mean. It was nice being in control of _something_." He didn't want to talk about how he wasn't even in control of his own life.

Sherlock nodded as he ate. "Then we will certainly have to try it again sometime." He gave John small smirk. He finished just a little over half the food. "You can have what is left over." He passed over the container to his slave. He threw off the robe covering him and gave a groan of discomfort when he laid down, opting to lay on his side. He rolled slightly so he could press into John a bit. Between being fucked senseless and the massage he was certain he would sleep rather soundly tonight.

John nodded and wondered if that was the end of the sex talk. Which was fine by him. Doing it had been awkward enough in its own way, but talking about it was a bit unbearable. He was actually pretty full from his own food for once and put the lid back on Sherlock's before setting it on the nightstand. He laid down on his back so he could feel Sherlock pressed up against his side. "You actually going to sleep?" He felt his own drowsiness slipping through with a yawn.

Sherlock nodded, a bit awkwardly since he was pressed against John. "Wake me up if I sleep late." Usually three or fours were enough for him but he was truly tired and comfortable. He grabbed at the sheets and pulled them up over them, despite being a bit sticky and wet from their mess. They could just shower in the morning. He closed his eyes and sleep found him quickly. While he slept, he snuggled closer to his slave and an arm crapped over John's side.

John nodded and pulled Sherlock closer to him as he drifted off to sleep. He was warm and sticky, but sleep still managed to find him easily. He once again considered how he had never felt so content in his life and wondered if it would always be like this once they were out of the manor. Or at least like this more often. He slept his whole eight hours without stirring, waking up to find Sherlock still in his arms. He was still and his eyes were shut, but he knew from experience that didn't mean he was sleeping. "Good morning."

Sherlock had slept slightly longer than he usually did, somewhere around six hours. He hadn't bothered moving. His arse still hurt but it wasn't as bad as it had been last night. John was still sleeping anyway. He heard his slave speak and he opened his eyes with a small groan. “Good morning.” Damn. They would be going back to the manor today. He just wanted to stay at the hotel until he had to go to Uni but that wouldn't be the smartest move he supposed. He still had to deal with his parents. His father specifically. Today. He didn't want to go. It would just be another lecture he didn't care about.

John understood how Sherlock felt with the groan. His vacation was over and he was going to go back to work today. And his master would have to deal with his father. He just hoped it was only Sherlock who had to deal with his father. He shifted, feeling how crusty and disgusting they both were. He sighed and laid back down, wondering if they could just stay here forever and have sex until the money ran out. "How much longer to uni?"

“Two months. Not much longer. I still need to figure out where I am going.” Sherlock smirked a bit, realizing he was cutting it quite close. Most classes started in August sometime, but he would see if they could move out and get settled early. He didn't care about that right now though. He still had John alone in a hotel room for a bit longer. He shifted so he could kiss his slave on the lips, wishing he could straddle John without having to worry about his arse hurting. He didn't plan on anything more than a morning snog but with how they had been lately, it wouldn't surprise him if things ended up going beyond that anyway.

"Yeah, get on that." John remembered all of Sherlock's applications still on the desk in the room. At this rate the Holmes were going to have to put in a big bribe to get Sherlock in pass the application due date. Shouldn't be a problem for them really. He accepted the kiss and smiled into it, wondering if Sherlock could really be randy again after the night he had had. He knew he could. He moved his hand to his master's back and brushed his fingers lightly against his skin. Sherlock was still naked, he remembered with a small shock. He pushed closer to his master so more of their skin was touching.

Sherlock gave a small moan when he felt their skin touch. John shouldn't be able to have that kind of control of over him but he didn't mind and as he figured out last night he quite liked it. He rolled onto his back, tugging on his slave, so John could rest on top of him. He continued the kiss, a hand moving up to run through his slave's hair.

John grunted when he was pulled on top of Sherlock. He was worried that Sherlock would be in pain from the weight,but he seemed fine, he still tried to put most of his pressure on his arms, and straddled Sherlock to take some of the weight off. "Do you want me to take control again?" He asked, breaking from the kiss for just a moment before pushing back into it. "You don't have to call me sir for that."

Sherlock ignored the discomfort from being on his back. He thought for a moment, seriously considering the question. He ended up nodding slowly. “Just don't shag me again.” He wasn't sure he was ready for that again, thought admittedly there was a part of him that wanted it. They could still get each other off without fucking. He wasn't hard yet but he had no doubt that John would be able to get him there soon enough.

John shook his head. "Wouldn't dream of it." He moved his mouth down to kiss at Sherlock's neck. He was going to make his master whine for him. Whine and beg his name even without the role reversal. He could feel his cock stirring at the thought. He licked and sucked on Sherlock's neck quickly, moving too fast to really leave bruises, but wanting to touch every part of him that was sensitive.

Sherlock closed his eyes, another moan escaping his lips as he felt John marking him. He couldn't help but buck up into his slave. Just as he thought, he was beginning to get hard. John was driving him mad with all the attention but he loved it. “God John,” he breathed out. “Bloody tease,” he muttered but he was smirking. He cracked an eye open and tilted his head down so he could watch his slave work. It was quite the sight. It shouldn't be so damned arousing but his slave doing anything to him was turning out to be such turn on.

John smirked back and rubbed his hands into Sherlock's shoulders. He lifted his head so he could speak into his master's ear. "I think I can tease better than that." He pushed his leg down in between Sherlock's and gave him some friction. He barely grazed his lips against Sherlock's collar bone and neck, just enough feeling to tickle. He moved his hands to rub feather lightly over his master's chest, pressing in just a bit harder around his nipples. He moved his mouth and sucked slightly right below Sherlock's ear, pulling away quickly before his master even had time to react, and then kissed him softly on the lips before grinding his leg on Sherlock's crotch.

Sherlock smirked again. He didn't doubt it and he wasn't at all surprised when John was true to his word. It was hard to keep track of where all the kisses and sucking was going on anymore, and he just laid back and enjoyed it. He moaned at the grinding, his cock completely hard now. He knew it wouldn't take long. John just had that effect on him and as long as he didn't think about the why too much he didn't care. “Yes. Please, more.” He was back to begging but it had worked out so wondrous last time.

John grinned at the begging and wondered if he should worry about what it was doing to his ego. Probably not. He ground down into Sherlock again a bit more roughly, the soft fabric of his trousers rubbing against his master's cock. He moved his leg so he was straddling Sherlock again. He was hard, but not nearly as worked up as Sherlock was. He supposed it made sense. He had a bit more experience and it wasn't like his master was working to drive him nuts. One of his hands reached down to stroke Sherlock's cock quickly, knowing his master was close. He continued to ravage his master's neck and chest, kissing licking and sucking on every patch of skin he could.

Sherlock moaned and arched up into the grinding. He had never thought John would be this eager to try and please him in bed, but he didn't think too much about it. All that really mattered to him was it was wonderful and happening. Selfish of him, probably but he was a bit of a spoiled prat. He didn't have near the self control or desire to stop himself from coming, so he simply let loose with a long moan when he felt enough pressure. He didn't care he hadn't even lasted that long. But Jesus. John had gotten him off with just his mouth practically and it hadn't even been on his cock.

John wasn't surprised when Sherlock spurted into his hand, covering his own chest for the second time in less than twelve hours. He supposed that was one nice thing about being on top all the time. His master always got the worse of the mess and he just had to clean himself off. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss Sherlock briefly on his lips. He wanted to try something. Desperately wanted to know what it would be like. He kissed his master again, feeling his throat tighten as he thought about the possible refusal. "Am I still in charge?" He ground his still clothed and hard cock on Sherlock's limp and sensitive one.

Sherlock didn't seem to notice or care about the mess all over him at the moment. His thighs and hips twitched as his sensitive area still felt the friction. He was about to ask if John wanted to jerk him off but his slave asked his own question. He was enjoying John being in charge more and more and he nodded. “Yeah sure. Go ahead.” He was curious what his slave had in mind  _ now. _ His eyes opened and his head tilted down so he could see what John would be up to. 

John felt a jolt of excitement go through him and he scrambled to get off of the bed. It was a bit ridiculous. He'd had a blow job before for fucks sake. But never had one from Sherlock, his master, who had perfect plumped lips. Who he had already fantasized about gagging and shutting up and this seemed like the easiest and most natural way to do it. He pushed those thoughts away, determined that he wasn't going to be rough. He pulled off his pants and looked at Sherlock. "You're going to suck my cock." He fell back into the role they had played yesterday. "Understand?" He straddled his master's chest.

Sherlock was confused when John got off the bed but finally his slave explained. It took a lot of effort to not smirk or cock an eyebrow at John's tone. He had told him he was still in charge after all. “Yes Sir.” He didn't have any experience with that of course but how hard could it be to suck someone off? Should he start now? Wait for John to put the cock in his mouth and then start? Was this the best angle to be doing it at? Or were they going move? Sod it. He was just going to wait til John gave him more orders or he would lay there all morning over thinking everything.

A shiver went through John as he straddled Sherlock's chest. He moved, bringing his cock just an inch from his master's mouth. He wasn't sure about the angle (he had never done this on a bed) but he soon figured out a quick solution. He grabbed his own pillow. "Nudge your head up." He backed up a bit to give Sherlock some room, and slipping the pillow under his master to give him a more comfortable angle. He grabbed his cock and moved forward, grazing Sherlock's lips with the tip of his cock. He moaned and stroked himself once just to take the edge off. "Take it in your mouth, please." He pushed his hips forward just a bit.

Sherlock lifted his head so the pillow could be put in place. It was a bit better. He licked his lips a bit when he felt the cock there, and he could already taste John. Not the best taste but it wasn't horrible either. He was over thinking things again. Just focus. He took his slave's cock into his mouth and began sucking. Right...so how should he do this? He decided to just began bobbing his head. He wasted no time taking as much cock in his mouth as he could. He had virtually no gag reflex anymore, after he had done an experiment on himself with vomiting.

John practically whimpered when Sherlock took the head of his cock into his mouth. He opened his mouth to instruct Sherlock more, but then his master started to bob his head. He leaned forward and grabbed the top of the headboard to hold himself up. Sherlock was taking almost all of his cock into his mouth and the feeling was incredible. He gasped as his master's tongue slid against his cock and his hips buck forward just a little. "Shit, sorry." He tried to will himself to stay still. He opened his eyes and looked down at Sherlock, groaning at what he saw. He reached down with one hand to push his master's thick hair back. "You look incredible."

Sherlock didn't gag when the hips came forward. He figured it would happen eventually, and he simply adjusted the angle slightly to make it more bearable. “'sfine,” he mumbled around the cock. He smirked at what John said next. He couldn't really make a comeback with his mouth full so he just continued to suck and bob on the cock. He was curious about a few things and he let his tongue slide near the slit of the cock to see if that would get some kind of reaction out of John.

John nodded, glad Sherlock wasn't upset with him. He knew he didn't take well to being gagged, but if his master liked it rough maybe that included this. He decided he could test that later after talking to Sherlock about it. He gripped the headboard tight and focused on keeping still. He thought about what it would be like, fucking his master's mouth while Sherlock just stood still and took it. He groaned and lowered his head, breathing hard. He was getting to the edge quicker than he thought. His master's tongue ran over the slit of his cock and John bit his lip and hissed. "Fuck, fuck." He found it harder and harder to keep his hips still.

Sherlock smirked and he let his tongue play with the slit a moment, before he went back bobbing and sucking the cock as much as he could. After John had teased him relentlessly in the best way possible, the least he could do was make sure his slave enjoyed being sucked off. That and John was still in charge so it was his duty as a slave to please his Master. As far as he could tell, it was working. It was hard to know for sure since he couldn't really see John's face at the moment. But the body language told him enough really.

John cursed more when Sherlock continued to play with his slit, teasing him endlessly. He supposed he deserved it a bit after what he had done to his master, but it still made him whine and want to buck his hips for more. Sherlock went back to sucking and he continued to whimper and gasp. As he got closer to his orgasm he found it harder to keep still and his hips started to move just slightly. It was only a few more moments and he was gasping quickly and crying out. That was only warning before he climaxed, gripping the headboard until his fingers turned white.

Sherlock was only partially ready for the load in his mouth, as he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. He coughed a little but managed to swallow it all. He pulled his mouth from the cock. “I take it I did well?” He was genuinely curious if he had done well for the first time. He'd done a piss poor job on trying to fuck John. He was hoping he could do at least one damn thing right for his slave. John had done amazing things for him.

John realized what he had done and climbed off of Sherlock quickly. Christ he hadn't meant to blow his whole load into Sherlock's mouth, but looking at him, his master seemed to have managed to swallow all of it. Christ, he couldn't help but think again. "Yeah." He wasn't even sure how he was standing next to the bed. He felt so relaxed and easy. He crawled back onto the bed and sat next to Sherlock, pulling him up so he could kiss his master in thanks. He didn't even care about the taste of himself on Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock smirked proudly. Finally, he had been able to do something right. “Good,” he murmured as he returned the kiss but broke it shortly after. “As much as I would love nothing more than to stay in bed with you all day, we should probably shower and go back to the manor. I don't want to keep father waiting too long.” Despite his words, he didn't move from the bed.

John sighed when Sherlock broke the kiss. He knew Sherlock was right. He had to go home and be apart of the functioning Holmes household. "Yeah, okay." Sherlock made no attempt to move and he rolled his eyes. He grabbed both of Sherlock's hands in an attempt to hoist him up onto his feet. "C'mon. I'll wash your chest off for you."


	16. Chapter 16

Sherlock groaned but got up with John's help. He followed his slave to the bathroom and caught sight of himself in the mirror. Jesus. He knew he had been a mess but hadn't realized it had been that bad. It motivated him to move a bit faster at least and turned on the water. When it was warm enough he got inside. “I feel sorry for the poor bastard who has to clean those sheets if I look like this.” He smirked a bit John.

"I'm sure they have seen worse." John stepped into the shower with Sherlock. He grabbed the complimentary bar of soap and a cloth, lathering it up under the water. He stood behind his master and reached out in front of him to begin scrubbing his chest like he had promised. It was practically caked onto his chest and he thought Sherlock was lucky he didn't have much chest hair. That would just make it worse. "Are you still very sore?" John asked, stepping back just a bit to avoid touching Sherlock's arse.

Sherlock stood still while John washed him. He was coming to enjoy showering with his slave. Maybe they could do it everyday from now on. “It isn't as bad as yesterday. Just more tender than anything. I'll be fine.” He leaned forward and gave John a quick kiss on the lips. His slave had always been concerned for his welfare he supposed but he had just brushed it off as John just doing his job. Right now, his slave seemed genuinely concerned though but he decided not to put too much stock into it.

John returned the kiss, leaning forward just a moment more. "That's good. I would hate to have ruined you for it." He smirked and continued to scrub Sherlock's chest gently, working the crud off and rinsing the cloth when he was done. He moved on to master's arms, legs, and back, cleaning the sweat off Sherlock. He bent down to clean his master's lower back and kissed his hip lightly. "Do you want to-?" John said letting the rest of that sentence hang as he held the cloth above Sherlock's arse.

Sherlock smirked a bit at the response. He hummed in appreciation from time to time as he closed his eyes, while John continued to wash him. They opened again when his slave asked the question. “No, it is fine.” Another smirk. “Just be gentle with me this time.” He was only half joking, hoping his slave would realize he meant it despite his tone.

"Okay." John moved the cloth to wash Sherlock's arse carefully. He never felt worse for the people who did the laundry at the manor. Come had to be a bitch to wash out considering it fucking got every where and stuck to everything. He cleaned the outside and then carefully parted his master's cheeks to clean in between, being as gentle as possible. At least he hadn't caused any damage to Sherlock, he noted with a blush. He finished and stood up quickly, feeling a bit awkward now. "That's as clean as you're going to get." He rinsed the cloth under the water and adding more soap so he could wash himself.

Sherlock tried not to shift or move too much while John washed his arse. It was still sensitive but he could tell his slave was being as careful as possible. “Thank you.” While John began washing himself, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo, put some in his hair and then applied it to his hair. He scrubbed in the suds awhile and then rinsed under the spray. He decided to go ahead and shampoo John's head next, fingers scratching at the scalp gently.

"No problem." John turned away form Sherlock as he scrubbed his own body off, trying to rush a whole lot more than he had with his master. He wasn't nearly as crud ridden as Sherlock, but there was still a ton of sweat and grime on him. He turned slightly in surprise at the feeling of his master's fingers on his scalp. He hummed in pleasure and leaned back into the touch. "Thanks." He finished up with getting himself clean. "Feels good."

Sherlock smirked a bit. “Figured I could return the favor, if only a little bit.” He moved a bit so the spray could reach John once he had finished shampooing his slave's hair. “Enjoy the rest of the shower as long as you want, but I am getting out.” He stepped out of the shower, dried, and then sighed when he realized he didn't have a set of clean clothes. Oh well. He left the bathroom in search of his clothes from yesterday. He found them randomly strewn around on the floor and he put them on one by one.

"I'm right behind you." John washed the soap and shampoo off of himself. He followed Sherlock out of the shower after just a moment and dried off quickly. He walked into the room and automatically went to his new bag of clothes before stopping himself. "I should probably go home in my uniform." He sighed and grabbed the clothes off the floor. "Where are you going to even put these for two months?" John looked at all the bags they had accumulated yesterday.

Sherlock shrugged. “I can keep them in the closet in my room. It is big enough. All I really use it for is my clothes.” He frowned at how wrinkled his clothes had become. Just one more thing for this father to lecture him about. Fucking great. He sighed, running a hand through his already errant black curls. The more he thought the meeting, the less thrilled he was about it. “Let's just this over with,” he muttered more to himself rather than John. He began gathering up their belongings.

John nodded, knowing very well how big Sherlock's closet was. To this day he still had the same shelf near the bottom where he kept everything he wore. There was no way all this would fit on his small shelf though. He sighed and also began gathering their belongings, picking up the casual clothes he had worn for his master yesterday and tucking them into one of the bags quickly. He pulled the restraints off the bed and grabbed the bottles of lube. "I hope you don't mind helping with some of the bags."

“Yes of course.” Sherlock picked up the remainder of the bags and the box with the laptop. When they had everything he led them to the lift and down to the lobby. He checked out of the room and paid for the bottle of champagne. He frowned when he saw a familiar black car outside. That was for them. He furrowed his brows in thought and then he realized his father must have tracked him down by the GPS in his mobile. He really needed to get that thing taken out. The driver greeted him formally, calling him 'Young Master Holmes' and everything. He grumbled and let the chauffeur take the bags and laptop. He got into the car, feeling even more anxious than he had before. He must really be in trouble if his father had sent a car to make sure he came home today. 

John frowned when he saw the car and immediately felt a knot form in his stomach. Shit they had sent a bloody car for them. The chauffeur acted as professional as always, not acting like they were dead men walking, but that hardly meant anything. He helped him put the bags in the back. "Master Holmes send you?" The chauffeur eyed him and nodded. He told him good luck in a sarcastic tone and went to the front seat. He scowled and climbed into the back with Sherlock. He leaned back in the seat and sighed. "So we're fucked." He didn't care if Sherlock got annoyed with him for stating the obvious.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but nodded. “He only asked for me in the text so, just go about your usual duties when we get back to the manor. If he summons for you, I'll let you know. You should try to avoid him if you can though. Maybe he'll just chew me out.” He felt like that was just wishful thinking at this point. Then again, what was the worst the could happen? All his father ever really did was yell at him and tell him how much of a worthless Master and son he was. That he should be more responsible like Mycroft. He sighed and shook his head, telling himself he didn't give a damn what the old man said.

"You know he's going to." John tried to pretend he wasn't terrified. If Master Holmes thought Sherlock wasn't punishing him hard enough he would do it himself. And Master Holmes never thought he was punished hard enough. Even now in this situation where he had no choice but to go with Sherlock. He would still probably be punished for skipping out on his chores and not reporting in like he was supposed to. "You'll try your best to get me out of it right?" He asked, sounding a bit pathetic.

Sherlock nodded. “I'll do what I can.” The car ride didn't feel like it lasted too long because before he knew it the vehicle had stopped and they were back at the manor. He took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for the verbal lashing. The chauffeur informed him that his father was in the den waiting for him. He got out of the car and walked straight for the den. Just better to get it over with. He closed the door behind him and wasn't surprised to find angry eyes narrowed at him the moment he walked in. The talk didn't go well, to put it mildly. At some point they had ended up face to face and yelling at each other. Then he did an incredibly stupid thing. He shoved his father. A fist fight erupted after that and he lost. He limped from the den, blood trickling from a split bottom lip. He passed a few slaves, but they all pretended they didn't see him. Hopefully John would be too busy all day to come see him. He didn't want his slave seeing him like this. He groaned as he finally managed to get to his bedroom. He laid on his bed, back to the door as he tried to ignore the pain his body was in.

John got a bit of an ear lashing from Mrs. Hudson, but that was about the worse of it. He explained that his master had dragged him off out of the blue and reminded Mrs. Hudson for the hundredth time that he did belong to Sherlock and couldn't say no to him. She looked at him a bit pityingly for just a moment and then gave him a list of chores to get done before the night was finished and dinner was served. He thanked her and ran off to do them, ignoring how tired he was as he did them. At dinner, which was formal tonight for some guest, he noticed the absence of Sherlock and wondered where he could be. He didn't miss all the dark looks Master Holmes was giving him as he filled up his water glass though. He ran off as soon as dinner was over up the stairs to Sherlock. He didn't bother with a plate, knowing his master wouldn't be eating today. He opened the door slowly in case Sherlock was sleeping for whatever reason and slipped in.

Sherlock had laid on his bed, just to get off his feet but at some point he had passed out. The pain maybe. He was pretty sure his father had gotten in a few kidney punches and he would be pissing blood the next couple days. He groaned at the door opening. Christ, how long had he been out? He kept his back to whom he presumed was John. Maybe his slave would leave if he kept still and he wouldn't have to answer any questions about what had happened. It had been his fault he supposed. He had shoved his own father while in a heated argument.

John heard Sherlock groan and felt worried. The idea that his master had slept all day was a bit...impossible. Sherlock never slept. His master had slept six hours last night and that had to be a record or something. He walked over to the bed and crouched down just to look at Sherlock's face. "Jesus Christ." It was clear he was more than a bit taken back. His master had been in a fight. He hadn't been beaten like a slave would, but an actual fight (John could tell the difference.) And someone had definitely gotten a few good punches in on him. He was sad to say he would have guessed Sherlock's father. He leaned in and kissed Sherlock's forehead lightly. "I'll be right back." He got up to leave the room again. He knew how to treat wounds if nothing else.

Damn it. “I'm fine,” Sherlock muttered the obvious lie while John inspected him. His slave left and he assumed it was to get ice or bandages. Maybe both . He groaned again as he forced himself to roll over onto his back. His sensitive arse was the least of his troubles at the moment. It was hard to find a position that was comfortable. He sighed, feeling like an idiot but he was sick and tired of his father yelling at him over what he considered to be stupid shit.

John ran down to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets quickly. He found a bottle of painkillers and a container of cream the slaves used for bruises and beatings. He went to the smaller freezer they had and pulled out out a few ice packs they kept handy for the same reason. He didn't bother to get bandages. Sherlock hadn't seemed to be bleeding anywhere but his lip. He was probably going to be covered in bruises though. He grabbed a bottle of water and ran back up the stairs, carrying all the things carefully. He ran back into the room and dropped them on the bed beside Sherlock. "You should take these first." He grabbed the pain pills and opened them quickly.

“I'm fine,” Sherlock repeated stubbornly but took the pills anyway. He downed it and chased them with the bottled water John had brought as well. “Didn't get a chance to tell father about buying a car.” He gave a slight smirk to his slave despite the fact his body was aching. Hopefully the medicine would work quickly. It would be nice to be pain free for awhile. “Probably won't be able to shag for awhile either.” Another smirk, as his eyes closed and he leaned his head against the headboard of the bed. It was an attempt at getting more comfortable but it didn't really work.

"I'm not worried about shagging." John rolled his eyes as Sherlock smirked. He needed to sort out his priorities. He wasn't sure if his master had ever been hurt like this before, but he wouldn't put it pass his master to push himself too hard before he was healed. "Where else did he get you?" He asked, not bothering to elaborate on who he thought the 'he' was. He grabbed the tub and opened the cream. He put a small dollop on his finger and carefully brushed as Sherlock's cheek. It wouldn't help him heal faster, but it was supposed to help with the soreness and stiffness that came from being beaten.

Sherlock shrugged and groaned at the mistake. He tried not to move away from the cream being applied to him but it did sting a bit. “Upper torso mostly. I don't think I have any cracked ribs though. Few low blows, wouldn’t be surprised if I piss blood today or the next.” He gave a humorless laugh. Another painful mistake. “At least you don't have to worry about the old man taking it out on you. Guess I really pissed him off. Probably didn't help any that I shoved him first.”

"Fucking bastard." John couldn't care less that is was Sherlock's dad. Who the fuck did shit like this to their son? He had probably deserved the pushing and then some. "Alright, take off your shirt." John wondered if his master would need to see a doctor. Getting Sherlock to agree to go would be hell, but he might insist if he did end up pissing blood. "I'm not sure." He sat back and waited for his master to take off his shirt. "He still seemed pretty pissed at dinner. I think he's blaming me for your delinquency again."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows at what John said and was thankful no one else had been around to hear it. “No argument here,” he agreed. He took his shirt off as slowly as he could, wincing a bit as he did so. He looked down at his body, just to see what kind of damage his body had taken. He frowned, it was a bit worse than he realized. His right pectoral was purple with bruising already. He hadn't remembered his father kicking him but he had red shoe print on his stomach and other red marks that were swollen as well on his sides.

John smiled at Sherlock's agreement and waited patiently for him to take his shirt off. He glanced down and felt sick to his stomach. "Holy fuck." He looked down at the beating his master had gotten. He had seen worse, a whole hell of a lot worse. But that didn't mean Sherlock wasn't in a whole lot of pain at the moment either. "Shit. He could have fucking ruptured something." His hand hovered over all of his master's marks and bruises. He got a large clump of the cream and easily touched it to the shoe mark on Sherlock's stomach.

“I'll be fine. If it had been bad, I wouldn't be awake and talking to you.” Sherlock wasn't sure who he was trying to reassure, himself of John. He gave a hiss of pain, eyes slamming shut as he tried not to squirm against his slave trying to treat his wounds. He really wanted those damn pills to start working any moment now. “How long does it usually take for the painkillers to start working?”

John bit his lip. In his mind they really never started working if the beating was bad enough. The painkillers they had weren't that strong and it wasn't possible for them to get the prescription stuff. "Give it ten more minutes." He moved the cream around to cover Sherlock's whole chest thickly. "You're going to be out of it for days either way." He frowned, getting his master's sides a bit more. "I'm guessing he got your back too."

“Probably. I don't really remember. I tried to fight back but I don't even think I got a hit on him. When I shoved him, I was down on the ground so fast and anything after that...” Sherlock trailed off but remembered not to shrug this time. It hurt too much. “I can't be out of John, I have applications to universities to fill out and get ready for the move.” After getting his arse kicked, he wanted to move the hell out of the manor even more. 

"All you managed to do was shove him and he beat you like this?" John asked, not even trying to hide his disgust. This was horrible. Sherlock was still seventeen for Christ's sakes. He should probably call and get the man locked up or something. "I'll get us ready to move and you can lead me through the applications if it turns out you can't even manage to handle a pen." He wondered how his master could ignore the needs of his own body like this. Last time he had ignored his needs he ended up almost selling him from sexual frustration. He called it transport, but he knew bodies needed things. "You want to roll over to I can get your back?" John asked.

“I don't know. I might have gotten a few hits in but nothing good.” Sherlock refrained from mentioning he could have made it stop if he'd let John take the rest of the beating. Instead, he had just endured whatever the hell his father was upset about. “I can manage a pen John. My fingers aren't broken. Just bring the applications to me on the bed, I'll be fine.” He was determined to not be stuck on bed rest for too long. He turned slowly on his stomach so John could rub the cream there next. “What's that stuff do anyway?” He hadn't gotten a good look at the label so he wasn't sure, but he trusted that his slave knew what he was doing.

"You can have the application tomorrow." John felt he had some authority on this. He would know how to take care of bruises a lot better than Sherlock would. And sleep really did help heal all wounds. "Not much." He slathered the cream on Sherlock's back. "Its supposed to help with soreness and stiffness. It helps some, but when the beating is bad there isn't much you can do for the pain."

Sherlock scowled but didn't argue with John. “Fine,” he muttered. He sighed as he listened to his slave explain what the cream did. Bloody wonderful. “I'm not in that much pain,” he lied. “I told you, that I am fine.” Usually he would whine and want attention when he was feeling miserable but right now he just wanted to be left the hell alone so he could brood in silence but he didn't think getting rid of John would be that easy to do.

"Well then this will get rid of the _small_ pain you are in," John said, not buying it for a second. Sherlock had never been strong and had never had a high tolerance to pain. The one time he had tried to teach him how to play wrestle had been disastrous and had gotten him his first beating for hurting his master. Not something he ever tried again. He finished applying the cream and put it on Sherlock's night stand with the pain pills and the water. "You should drink more. That will help too." John stood up and began to wash his hands.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but said no more about the pain he was feeling. John knew him better than anyone, so he wasn't sure why he was bothering to hide anything. He decided he was going to take classes on fighting, or at least self defense while away at Uni. He wasn't going to let anyone kick his arse like that again. He groaned as he leaned over and got the bottle of water while John went to clean up. He sat up a little and took a sip, trying to find the best position to relax in but found none.

John washed his hands and went ahead and changed into his pajamas. His long list of chores had left him tired and it wasn't like Sherlock was going to get him to do anything tonight. "Sucks doesn't it?" He couldn't help but say as he sat on the other side of the bed next to his master. He looked down at Sherlock who changed positions again in an attempt to get comfortable. "Anything I can do to help. And don't say nothing just to shrug me off. Please."He reached down and pushed his master's hair off of his sweaty forehead.

Sherlock gave a slight nod. It did suck. He didn't like sitting around doing nothing. And he couldn't even shag his slave. He was about to say 'nothing' but stopped himself when John said not to. He smirked a bit. "Just lay with me, not much else you can do for me. Too sore for a massage but maybe one later when I don't hurt as much. Help relax my muscles. You did quite the job on me in the hotel." He gave John a small smile.

"We can try that in the morning." John gave a smile, laying down and figuring some company and sleep is all Sherlock really needed. "Glad to know I can do something right for you." He made a joke on how everyone said he was such a bad slave. He thought that was ridiculous because how many slaves would do what he did for Sherlock? He waited on him constantly and kept him in place whenever he was doing something stupid. He supposed that wasn't his job but someone had to do it for his master.

Sherlock snorted. “Yes, God knows you have never done anything for me. What a useless slave you are.” A smirk. “Except shagging, you seem quite good at that.” Damn. He wished they could fuck again. His body would hate him for it and he wasn't even entirely sure his cock would cooperate and get hard anyway. John wouldn't allow it either, even if had managed to get an erection somehow. He wasn't sure if it was the pills he had taken or the abuse his body had taken but he was feeling drowsy again. It was annoying to him since he had more than enough sleep at the hotel but it was getting hard to keep his eyes open.

John laughed dryly, glad at least Sherlock thought he was useful. He supposed no one else's opinion mattered. He wasn't their slaves after all. "Really? I couldn't tell. I thought you found the whole process mediocre." He matched Sherlock's smirk with his own. John saw the way his master's eyes were dropping and how his body was becoming more relaxed despite his bruises and marks. He managed a fake a yawn and smiled at Sherlock in a very content way. "You going to sleep tonight?" He asked, trying to sound casual. The fact was he knew Sherlock would be out in twenty minutes, but they could both pretend other wise if his master needed him too.

“I don't want to sleep.” Sherlock pouted for a bit a the thought. Except he probably should. Sleeping would help him a bit better. “But...I suppose I should,” he finally relented. He wouldn't like it or be happy about it but it was needed. He tried to get as comfortable as he could and relax his aching body a bit more. He pressed his cheek into his slave's shoulder. “Good night John.” He closed his eyes and despite the pain he was in, it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

Sherlock didn't sleep well that night. He didn't have nightmares often, but they found him that night. He woke up startled but at least he hadn't screamed. He groaned at how tense his body was now and he tried to force himself to relax. Hopefully he hadn't woken John up. He didn't want to have to answer any questions. It had just been a dream anyway. It meant nothing, but he knew he wouldn't sleep the rest of the night. He gave a small sigh and stared up at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the pain he still felt or the accursed nightmare. He couldn’t remember the last time he had one. Since he was a child he supposed.

John eventually fell asleep and slept well. Despite his worry about Sherlock, he felt positive about the future as long as it involved getting him and his master out of the manor as soon as possible. Unfortunately that wasn't for two more months. He figured he would have to persuade Sherlock that they needed to start acting better. Just for a bit. His eyes blinked as his master jerked against him as if he was startled. "Huh?" He briefly noticed how stiff Sherlock was and how he wasn't sleeping at all. His half lulled mind registered that as perfectly normal (it was really). And fell back asleep.

Damn it. He had woken John up but luckily his slave had gone back to sleep. Sherlock wasn't in the mood for talking. He never was when it came to useless things like emotions. His older brother had told him caring wasn't an advantage. It was just better to do without sentiment. His eyes closed but he wasn't sleeping. Far from it. He was just thinking and trying to figure out the best way to survive life in the manor until Uni. The thought of playing by his father's rules irked him or maybe he was just being a stubborn git like usual.

John woke up a few hours later. He lifted his head and looked around the room, blinking sleepily. He looked down at Sherlock who was obviously not sleeping despite his eyes being closed and smiled. "Good morning." He sat up and stretched his arms out. He didn't remember waking up in the middle of the night. He only now remembered how bad his master had been when he had gone to sleep the night before. "Do you want some more pain medicine?" He reached over Sherlock and grabbed both the pill bottle and the water. He wanted to help his master get better and because of that he knew he was in for a long haul. Sherlock was the worst patient in the world; he was sure of it.

Sherlock grumbled at the statement of 'good morning' since he didn't see anything good with it at the moment. He was in a bad mood. He had been brooding since he had woken up in the middle of the night. “I'm fine,” he muttered. “Just get me my applications so I can get into a university and get the fuck out this place. After that, just do your damn chores. Don't worry about me.” Of course he had gone and taken out his anger on John. Typical Holmes thing to do he supposed, always blame someone else.

John frowned and looked down at Sherlock. "No you're not." He got up and out of the bed. His master had been fucking beaten last night. There was no way he wasn't in pain. He put the pills and water on Sherlock's night stand before going to get dressed. Despite how much he wanted to watch after his master today, he did still have chores to do. He finished dressing and went over to Sherlock's desk. He gathered up the applications and a pen and walked over, setting them on Sherlock's night stand as well. “Please sleep if you feel like it. And ring down to the kitchen for me if you want me to come up."

Sherlock sighed but didn't want to argue with John. It would only make things worse and at least it didn't appear his slave had taken too much offense to him being rude. He ignored the pills and picked up the applications instead. His father wanted him to go to Oxford, but he wasn't interested in going there at all. But...maybe going there he would appease the old man and life at the mansion wouldn't be so hellish. At this point, he was willing to do just about anything to avoid even ever having to be in the same room as his father ever again. He told himself it wasn't because he was afraid, just pissed off. Good enough excuse as any.

John accepted Sherlock's silence for compliance and walked towards the door. "I'll see you later." He left, closing the door behind him. He actually made it to check in on time and was able to have breakfast. He declined bringing up breakfast to Sherlock, knowing his master wouldn't eat right now. He did his morning chores, all the while thinking about how Sherlock was doing and whether or not he had actually taken the pills. Lunch rolled around and John decided he might as well try. Some food might help his master heal up sooner. He would need the calories to deal with all the energy his body was putting towards healing him. He grabbed the tray and walked up to Sherlock's room, kicking the door open. "Hows it going?"

Sherlock filled a out a few applications but his body was exhausted, even if his mind wasn't. He ended up napping on and off in between filling out the forms. He was in the middle of a nap when the door was kicked in and it woke him quickly. “What?” He muttered, confused for a moment. “Oh right. Almost done.” It wasn't like he could get up and go do something more interesting. He supposed this was the fastest he had done them, even with sleeping in between. The one to Oxford was on the bottom of the stack for a reason. Maybe he wouldn't fill it out all. Spite the old man. He wasn't going to let his father rule his life by fear. Fuck that. He was just far too stubborn for it.

"Sorry." John realized he had woken up from a nap. Christ it must be bad if Sherlock was napping. It looked like he had fallen asleep while filling out the forms too. He noticed the water and the pills untouched but didn't say anything. His master must have been feeling stubborn over his pride. "You should eat." Sherlock probably wouldn't be hungry. Pain made the stomach spin and it wasn't really a good combination a lot of the time. But he still needed to eat just to have something in him.

Sherlock rubbed at his head, trying to ignore the oncoming headache that was creeping just above his right eyebrow. He had enough pain to worry about without his head pounding. He sighed and shrugged when John told him he should eat. “I ate yesterday, I am fine.” He needed to piss awhile ago, but that would have meant getting out of the bed and moving. He wouldn't be able to hold it forever though. “John...” He trailed off for bit, he couldn't believe he was asking this. “...would you help me to the loo?” He hated himself for asking and hopefully his slave wouldn't tease him about it. He was already in a dour mood and he didn't have the energy to fight.


	17. Chapter 17

"Yeah. You also got the shit beaten out of you." John was skeptical that Sherlock had eaten. They had left the hotel without eating and then came back and his master went to see his dad straight away. No way he could have eaten really. He raised his head in attention when Sherlock said his name, sounding a bit shameful. Sherlock never sounded ashamed really so it caught him off guard. "Oh sure." He stood up and bent over so he could offer his master a shoulder. Sherlock must have been in worse pain than he realized if he needed help walking or maybe he was just being a baby about it.

Sherlock didn't like feeling and looking weak like he was in his current condition. Maybe he could teach himself to have a stronger pain threshold. It would make for an interesting experiment he supposed. Maybe he could work on that when he took classes on fighting. He made it to the restroom and relieved himself with a small hiss. Blood like he thought. It hurt but the urine didn't seem to be too discolored from the blood. He should be able to piss just fine tomorrow. “If I took classes in martial arts while at Uni, would you want to take them too?”

John half carried Sherlock to the bathroom and closed the door. When he heard flushing he waited just a moment and then opened the door again. He offered his shoulder and started to half carry his master back to the bed. "What?" It was clear he was confused by the words for a moment. Classes? "Martial arts classes? Yeah I would love too." He wasn't able to think of anything he would rather take classes about. All the fighting he knew was from rough playing with the other slaves his age. Nothing professional. "Worried about your dad?"

Sherlock scowled. “No.” He all but yelled the single word but managed to calm down and continued to speak. “Just seems like a good thing to be trained in. If I plan on working for the Yard I should be able to defend myself is all.” The excuse wasn't the best he supposed but at last it made sense. “I've always thought being strong in intellect was the only thing important but perhaps being strong in body would be helpful as well.” He laid on the bed once they were back in his room.

John took a no for a yes, but didn't comment on it. If his master wanted to ignore that he could. He ignored his fear of Sherlock's dad most of the time. He smiled when he heard his master talk about working for the yard, wondering if he had figured out his own paperless job yet. He would invent his own or something, he thought with a smile. He sat on the bed beside Sherlock and sat the tray in his lap without much care. "I've been trying to show you that for years." He had never been one to hide his teasing about his master's frail physique.

Sherlock snorted. “Do shut up,” he muttered. There wasn't any anger in his voice, if anything it held amusement. John was the only person who would tease about anything but he supposed if anyone else had done it he would have yelled at them. He glanced at the food on the tray. “Doctor Watson, will eating help me feel better faster? I do fear, I have been quite the miserable patient. Perhaps I should listen to the wisdom of doctor.” He gave John a small smirk, one eyebrow cocked slightly.

If Sherlock wasn't already bruised John would have hit him in the arm. Well he would not anyway. Probably not last week when his master was still being a sexually frustrated twat. But honestly fucking seemed to have fixed a lot of their problems. He smiled, feeling it probably wasn't suppose to work like that. "No. You should listen to the wisdom of the person who had been beaten before." John said with a dry smile. "Now eat so I can satisfy my nurturing nature."

The response John gave, made him frown a bit. Right. He supposed if anyone would know it would be a slave. “Has father ever beaten you this bad or worse?” Hell, had his beating even been bad in comparison to what slaves got? He should probably know that answer. Sherlock knew it was how his father dealt out punishment was with whippings and beatings but he had never really paid that close attention the damage that had been doled out, even when it had happened to John. He had always just told himself not to care or worry because it was perfectly fine for slaves to be beaten. Now...he wasn't so sure.

John's stomach clenched up at the question. He wasn't sure how to answer. The answer was yes. Absofuckinglutely. He was surprised Sherlock had even had to asked. There had once been a time when he had spent four days in the slave quarters due to him being beaten. What did his master think had happened during that time? Hell, he had probably been as beaten as bad or worse as Sherlock was right now that first time when he was twelve. Did his master not remember or just choose to ignore it? "Yeah, but he uses tools and stuff on us. You just got his hands." He was trying to weasel around the real answer.

Sherlock frowned but nodded. He supposed it made sense. He didn't know what to say now so he just started to eat the food on the tray, even thought he didn't feel that hungry. “John...I'm sorry...” He trailed off. He had wanted to say he had never realized but he  _ had _ but he'd just chosen to ignore it. “I'll never let him touch you again. It isn't his right anyway. You are legally my slave.” He wasn't sure why he was feeling angry all the sudden. Maybe it was because John was more than a slave to him, he was his friend. 

John grabbed his own plate and leaned back in the bed. He wasn't going to think about beatings anymore if he couldn't manage it. He smiled when Sherlock started to eat. He was always happy to win an argument like this. They were in silence for a moment and then he stopped to look up at his master when he spoke. Sorry? For what? He nearly asked, but then Sherlock continued. His stomach twisted again and he was about to tell his master that it was fine. Even though it really wasn't. Nothing was ever fine about being beaten. "He will hit you instead." He could already see how that would go down now. Sherlock's dad didn't let his slaves talk back and applied the same rules to his parenting. "It is only two more months. I can stay out of trouble until then." Although, he didn't sound very confident. He never really did anything worth punishment anymore except for go along with Sherlock's bad ideas. "Thanks though." He wanted his master to know the sentiment was appreciated.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes in thought. “I know that and I don't care. Why the hell do you think I'm laying in bed with bruises now?” Damn it. He hadn't planned on saying anything to John about it, but it was too late now. He looked away from his slave angrily, but the only person he was really mad at was himself. He couldn't leave the room to pout either. Well, he could try but he wasn't sure how far he would get limping like an invalid.

John's mouth opened a little and he blinked. Sherlock had what? Pushed his dad because he said he was going to beat him or something? He was in bed because of him. "Dammit." He got up out of the bed. He felt angry and guilty which was stupid. His master was stupid for doing something like that. He didn't really care about him that much, so why do something so stupid? "You should have let him get me. I'm used to this Sherlock." He was practically yelling now. He wasn't sure where the anger was coming from but it was there. "If he had done this to me I would have been fine tomorrow. You are going to go nuts for the next week." He began pacing back in forth in the room.

Sherlock was a bit surprised that John was angry as well? The hell? That didn't even make any sense to him. He watched his slave pace around the room, for once not sure what to say. Well, there were a lot of things he thought about yelling back but it just didn't seem worth it. He also worried that if they were heard yelling at each other, his father would find out and he just assumed avoiding that altogether. “I'll be fine,” he finally muttered when he couldn't take the silence anymore.

John looked at Sherlock and waited for an answer. Stupid this was stupid! He couldn't help but think over and over. His master wasn't even yelling back and defending himself. He knew there was no good reason for him to do what he had done. "Eventually," he agreed, wondering how long that was going to be. He had gotten into a fucking fist fight with his dad over his fucking slave. "Why don't you report him?" He asked a bit desperately. "You know people up at the yard." (If only because Sherlock had been arrested by them once.) "And even if you didn't you are seventeen. He can't do this."

“Report him? Then what? He would just walk anyways. He is a fucking Holmes. He could just pay off whoever he wanted or hell maybe he wouldn't even bribe them. He could blackmail someone or any other manner of things. You don't get as powerful as my father is and keep your hands clean. It just wouldn't be worth pursing.” Sherlock was remaining surprisingly calm, considering he didn't feel like it. He was prone to being moody and outbursts too, so he wasn't entirely sure how he was keeping himself together at the moment.

John frowned. He knew Sherlock was right. Master Holmes was untouchable he supposed. "He just can't do this to you." He ran his fingers thought his hair in frustration. It had been fine earlier. He couldn't have done anything to prevent it and now he could just take care of Sherlock. But now he knew that his master could have walked away he was upset and frustration. "You can't let him do this to you again. Its too close to you going to uni." He walked back over to Sherlock and sat down. "Please."

Sherlock frowned as he studied John. His slave seemed really upset by the whole thing and he wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't like he had gotten the shit beat out of him. “John, I'm fine. If...it happens again...it happens.” He shrugged because really anything could set his father off. Nothing he ever did was good enough or right. He had just stopped caring what his father thought, which he supposed was part of the problem. His blatant disregard didn't help him at all. Anyway, there was no making the man happy. Well, Mycroft seemed to do it flawlessly but not everyone could be perfect like that. He groaned at his thoughts and just tried to stop thinking about it. “To be honest, I was just going to try and avoid him more than usual.”

"Yeah, please do that." John hoped that Sherlock actually kept to his plan. Truthfully, his master could be as bad as his father when it came to looking for fights. He had long since learned to ignore Sherlock when he got like that. "I have more chores to do." He knew he was only supposed to stay long enough for Sherlock to eat. "Just don't let him beat you again alright. I don't want to have to walk you to the bathroom all the time." He managed a small smile. He knew he would take three beatings if it meant his master avoiding one. He was so fucked.

Sherlock nodded and then rolled his eyes. He didn't really feel like talking about it anymore. Luckily, John had more chores to do and he would be left alone until the evening. He slumped down onto the bed when his slave left the room. He forced himself to finish the applications but he ended up throwing the one to Oxford away. He really didn't care where he went, but he was determined to find someplace that would just piss his father off.

John grabbed the tray and left without another word. He was lucky that him and Sherlock were so close. Otherwise he would have gotten beat for the types of things he said to his master. It wasn't his fault Sherlock was so stupid. He did the rest of his chores with increasing irritation. The one time he saw Master Holmes was when he served him dinner, and he managed to get something to trade out with him on dishes duty. He wouldn't get to his master until later, but at least he wouldn't accidentally kill his father. He washed the dishes quickly, hoping Sherlock had already gone to sleep.

Sherlock was feeling extremely stubborn and he forced himself from the bed. He still hadn't taken the pain pills but he forced himself to walk around (well, limp really) around the room. He needed to start teaching himself to handle pain. He kept at it until he exhausted himself and he slumped down against the door to his closet. The bed was too far away for him to bother even crawling to. John probably wouldn't be happy to see him on the floor but his slave didn't seem happy about anything today. He didn't understand why John was taking the beating _he_ had received so hard. It seemed a bit ridiculous to him but he wasn't going to ask about it.

John finished the last of his chores and grabbed a bottle of juice he hoped to convince Sherlock to drink. And hopefully take some pain pills with. His master was probably going to be stubborn and try to do it the hard way. Sherlock wouldn't realize that was just going to slow his healing down even more. He opened the door and he saw Sherlock slumped against his closet door. "Shit, Sherlock." John put the juice down and ran over to him. He got down on his knees and offered his master an arm. What the fuck was he doing here? It wasn't like he was trying to go to the bathroom, that was on the other side of the room. "Are you okay?"

Sherlock gave John a weak smirk. “Haven't I been telling you? I'm fine. Besides, just doing a bit of an experiment. Went okay, I think.” He hadn't fallen on his face or toppled over in a heap. He was counting it as a win at least. He couldn't stand to just lay in bed all day, it had been driving him nuts and he wasn't even past the first day yet. The next few days to come were going to be hell. Maybe if he became immune to the pain like he hoped, then he would be able to move around and it wouldn't matter. He just had to get used to it first, healing process be damned.

"Went okay?" John asked. He roped his arm under Sherlock's and hoisted him up to his feet. "You're on the ground."He wondered how on earth that was okay. He tried to help his master take a few steps and wondered how long Sherlock had been on the floor like that. "What was the experiment about?" He really hoped his master didn't push himself during this. His body wasn't use to it and he would end up falling down the stairs or something. He was determined to get Sherlock to take some more pain pills.

Sherlock allowed John to help him back to the bed, and he used his slave for support more than he would have liked. “I am trying to build up a tolerance to pain,” he explained. He got back up on the bed with a small groan and was surprised when he heard a knock on the door.

“Sherlock honey, I got you some medication for your pain and bruises.” Mrs. Holmes had not been happy with her husband when she had found out what had happened to her youngest son. She hadn't said anything to her husband at the manor, she would never in front of anyone but that didn't stop her from sleeping in a guest room on the other side of the manor.

John rolled his eyes and was about to tell Sherlock how stupid that was when he heard a knock on the door. He jumped back and away from his master before the door opened, just in case the worst happened. Luckily it was just Mrs. Holmes and not her husband. Out of the three Holmes that weren't Sherlock, Mrs. Holmes was his favorite, but that didn't mean she was very fond of him. No one except Sherlock was very fond of him. He stood against the wall and kept his head low, trying to look like furniture like he was supposed to do. He didn't point out the medicine and cream already sitting on the nightstand that he had brought in yesterday right after Sherlock had actually gotten hurt.

“Mummy, John already brought me stuff. Thank you for thinking of me though. Guess I really messed up this time.” Sherlock gave a faint smirk.

Mrs. Holmes waved a dismissive hand. She didn’t even look at John. She only cared about her son at the moment. “No, this is the good stuff. Prescribed from a doctor in my book club. Not that horrible stuff slaves use. You are too good for that Dear.” She placed the bag on the small table by the bed and then brushed some errant curls out of Sherlock's face. Finally she turned her attention to John. “It is your job to make sure he doesn't get addicted to the pain killers. I shouldn't have to remind you to take care of your Master.” It should have been the slave beaten, not her Baby Boy. She shook her head and left the room before she could cry in front of anyone. She prided herself on being strong.

"Yes, ma'am." John gritted his teeth and looked at that ground. Where was she with the 'good stuff' when Sherlock had been beaten yesterday? Fuck, where had she been when he was being beaten? And she didn't need to tell him to do this job! What the fuck was with telling him off before he even did something wrong? He wouldn't let his master get addicted to pills. The stuff he had brought Sherlock was probably too weak to get addicted too. She left and he slunk to the ground. He wanted nothing more than to pout like Sherlock always did.

“Mum...” Sherlock trailed off since his mother had left his room before he could even finished. He sighed and glanced over to John. “Oi, _I'm_ the one who is supposed to pout.” He offered a faint smirk. He winced as he crawled to the end of the bed so he could be closer to his slave. “Sod what anyone says. You take better care of me than anyone.” He managed not to make a sound of discomfort as he reached out a hand to run through John's hair lightly. He had missed the constant contact they had shared on their day out together and it was nice to be doing it again.

John looked up at Sherlock with an unimpressed look. He should try not to be put out when everyone was constantly telling him how shit he was. Except Sherlock, he reminded himself. As if on cue, his master thanked him and stupidly crawled across the bed to get to him. "Where would you be without me?" Two more months he told himself. He wouldn't have to care about any of these people's opinions. He could just live with Sherlock. He tilted his head up and kissed his master gently on the lips. He only lingered for a moment before pulling away. Sherlock still had the cut and all.

“I would be lost without you,” Sherlock admitted. Hell, if John hadn't been bought for him on his tenth birthday, he probably would have end up running away from the manor at some point. Mmm. He didn't care about the cut on his lip, the kiss was nice and welcome. He wished they could do more. They both could use the distraction right now. His fingers continued to run through the short blond hair, because he wanted to maintain any kind of contact he could get, even it was just something simple.

John scooted closer to Sherlock. He kissed him again and enjoyed the feeling of his master's fingers in his hair. "Really?" He put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder where he wasn't bruised and gently rubbed up and down his master's neck and shoulder. "Any other mind blowing things you would like to tell me?" He moved closer still so that they were just inches from each other. The space felt intimate, but he knew they couldn't do much when Sherlock was like this. He would hope his master would give him the same kind of peace if it was him all bruised up.

Sherlock closed his eyes when they kissed again. He had been tense and sore all day but it all seemed to melt away the moment his slave rubbed his shoulder and neck. “Well, yeah. I don't know where I would be if my parents hadn't bought you for me.” He figured they regretted that day but he was actually thankful for it. He was being serious, despite John teasing him about it. He wouldn't have been able to survive the manor alone he didn't think. At one time, he had Mycroft to help him cope but as they got older they only drifted apart.

"I'm sure you would have gotten some other poor kid," John said with a smile. He continued to rub Sherlock's shoulder, seeing how he gave into the touch. He would offer a full massage, but he thought his master might still be too sore for that. "You would have pushed them around and been bored within a day." He gave a smirk, remembering how Sherlock had called him rude and told him he didn't act much like a slave. He supposed that wasn't his fault. He hadn't been brought up to work so closely for a free-person. He was a bit better now.

“Maybe,” Sherlock relented. He didn't think he would have been able to tolerate anyone else to be his slave. He wasn't sure what it was about John that he was able to tolerate. Everyone else was just so boring and ordinary, to him though John was different than the rest. Although, he couldn't exactly say why. Maybe it was because his slave didn't mind challenging him and just wasn't some scared little drone like everyone else in the manor. He supposed that what why he and his father clashed so much, they were completely different Masters. His father expected nothing but obedience but he didn't mind the challenge John offered. It was refreshing.

John rubbed Sherlock's neck softly with his thumb and kissed him chastely on the lips again. He got off the bed and stood up so he could get the juice he had brought for Sherlock. "You should take the pills your mum brought." He didn't want to be grateful to that hag for doing something for his master, but he was sure these would be a lot better than the ones he had brought him. His mum had been pretty clear the stuff they got the slaves was absolute shit. He handed the juice to Sherlock and went to open the pills for him. He wasn't planning on taking no for an answer tonight about anything.

Sherlock scowled at being told he should take the pills, but he sat up on the bed anyway with a small groan. He cocked his head slightly so he could read the label. Jesus. Vicodin? No wonder his Mum had been worried about possible addiction. It would work wonders but he wasn't sure if taking them would be worth the risk of getting hooked on them. “Only give me one,” he said as he took the juice. “That should be sufficient and I would rater not take more of that than I have to.” Even just one would work better than the other pain pills John had given him before, that much he was certain.

"I did read the label." John popped one into his hand. It wasn't like Sherlock couldn't take a few pills without being addicted. The label said addiction only came from extended long term use. His master would only have these for one or two days. Probably. He handed the pill to Sherlock and put the pill bottle next to the one he had brought up. With any luck he would take both of them downstairs and give the good stuff to Mrs. Hudson for emergencies. "Please drink the juice. You can't heal without calories." He sat back on the bed facing Sherlock.

Sherlock washed down the pill with the juice as he was asked. He glanced over at John. “You know, you would make a good doctor I think. Good bed side manner. Knowledgeable. Too bad you can't be the one to go to classes at Uni. Its just one giant waste of time for me.” But it would be worth it, if only to get away from the manor that just became more horrid every day. While no pain would be nice, he was annoyed that the medication would make him sleep as well. He had done more than enough of it in the last two days, he didn't want anymore.

"Yeah. A complete waste of time." His expression turned sour, but he tried not to let it show. Leave it to Sherlock to not know how upsetting what he had just said was. John was never asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. But when he came to live with his master he knew that was a thing free kids were asked. Sherlock never had an answer. His master had wanted to be a pirate after he had taught him to play. And then he wanted to be nothing. Sherlock was too bored for professions. Now his master wanted to be a detective. He had always been able to think of a dozens answers to that question. Doctor had never been on the list, but how was a slave to even think about going to uni? Seemed a bit like a dream honestly. "You should go back to sleep." He stood up so he could straighten up Sherlock's room.

He had something wrong, hadn't he? Sherlock could tell just off John's posture. However, he couldn't figure out what was wrong. Had to be something about the Uni comment, it was the only thing that made sense. “Not tired,” he shot back even though he knew the pill he had just taken would force him into a drug induced sleep sooner rather than later. He laid on the bed anyway, once more trying to find a comfortable way to lay. He watched his slave clean up his room, like had done so often when they were kids. Eventually, the pain ebbed away and before he realized it his eyes slipped closed and fell into quite the deep sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

John picked up the small bits of mess that Sherlock had accumulated over the last two days. Luckily he had been in bed most of the time and hadn't been able to get up and wreck the place. John figured he would try to take the morning off the help Sherlock shower and change clothes. Would Sherlock object to sharing showers at home even when they hadn't had sex. John was only allowed two a week (or one if he had pissed someone off), but he figured if he was helping Sherlock it wouldn't count. He gathered up the dishes to be brought downstairs in the morning and changed. He climbed into bed next to Sherlock and fell asleep.

Sherlock blinked his eyes open slowly, unsure just how long he had slept. Fuck. He was sore. Without thinking he reached out for the bottle next to the bed but stopped himself when he touched it. God. He wanted the pain to stop but he shouldn't be so damned reliant on drugs already. They had just done a wonderful job of it last time and he hadn't worried about a thing when he had drifted off. He pulled his hand away from the bottle, deciding he would just go back to his experiment of having a higher pain threshold. He was a little out of it, that he hadn't even noticed if John was next to him or not.

Before Sherlock had woken up, John had already gone downstairs to persuade Mrs. Hudson that he needed the morning off to help Sherlock bath and change his clothes. Despite the supposed secrecy of the family, every slave knew what had happened to Sherlock. Whispers spread and every became extra nervous around Mr. Holmes, who just became angrier every day. Mrs. Hudson relented and told him to go 'take care of that boy.' John thanked his and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He walked into the room quietly in case Sherlock wasn't away. Luckily he was. "Morning." He said, walking over and standing in front of Sherlock. "I'm off so I can bathe you." he said with a small grin

The door opened which meant John was coming into the room. Almost no one else ever visited his room. And if they did, they knocked. “Morning,” he muttered not sharing his slave's good mood. He was disappointed in himself for wanting drugs again so soon. “I don't want to get up today John. Maybe tomorrow.” Except he would have to get up at some point he figured, if only to relieve himself at some point.

John frowned. "You were all about getting up yesterday." John pointed out, not wanting to have to fight on this. He decided to pull some of the experience that seemed to work on Sherlock so well. "The water will help with the soreness and you need to get up anyway. You'll get bedsores or something." John said, only having heard that was a thing. "And you should be able to have another pill when you get out. Your twelve hours will be up." John said, remembering he was suppose to be controlling Sherlock's drug intake. "Did it help much?" John asked, having never had pain medication really work for him before.

Damn John for being the voice of reason. Sherlock sat up slowly and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He didn't try to stand though. Well hell. Was he wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing when they had gone out shopping? Disgusting. Well, that was enough to motivate him at least if his slave hadn't already. “Yeah, it was okay.” It had been more than okay but he didn't want to admit that out loud and he certainly wasn't going to reveal he had almost taken more first thing upon waking up.

John walked to in front of Sherlock and bent down in front of him. His shirt was already off from when John had rubbed him down, so John just started to undo his trouser. He smirked. The last time he had done this it had ended with him getting a blow job. He didn't think he would be so lucky this time. "Stand up." He said, grabbing Sherlock's hand to help him stand so he could pull of Sherlock's trousers and pants. He looked behind and thought that the sheets must have been disgusting by now. He could call in a favor to have them changed before Sherlock got out of the bath.

Sherlock stood with John's help and he did his best to help his slave disrobe. “So, do I get the pleasure of having you join me in the bath or is this strictly business?” He smirked a bit, even though he knew full well he wouldn't be able to do a damn thing other than maybe some snogging. He preferred a shower over a bath, but it would give him a chance to soak his sore limbs. He wasn't sure he had the stamina to stand under the spray of shower, even with John there to help him.

John looked up at Sherlock and smirked. "I can join you if you want." he said, looking over Sherlock's body. The act wasn't as pleasurable as it might have been once. Sherlock's body was black, blue, and yellow. At least his torso was in any case. It made John's blood boil and he reconsidered joining Sherlock in the tub. He could bump into him or something. "Are you sure you don't want to just soak by yourself?" John asked, getting an arm under Sherlock and helping him limp to the bathroom.

As appealing as the thought of sharing the bath with John was, it probably wasn't really that good of idea. “I suppose it would be best if I took it alone,” Sherlock admitted with some regret. Once they got to the bathroom, he sat down on the toilet so his slave could get the tub ready. “Use some those scented bath salts Mummy got me for Christmas last year, pretty sure this is the only time they will ever get used.” He still hadn't figured out why his Mum thought he would want or use such a thing but he couldn't just very well throw them away. His Mum was one of the few people he went out of his way not to be rude to, other than John.

John nodded and tried not to be a bit disappointed. The idea of sharing a bath had been nice. Sherlock could lay against him in his lap and John would be able to scrub his head a leisure. John shook his head and started the water, getting it to the perfect temperature. He struggled to remember where he had put the bath salts. He had been not to throw them away, but honestly he was also sure they were just a bad re-gift. Or maybe Sherlock's mum had put the wrong name on them. John cracked a smile as he got on the floor to look under the sink. He found the salts in a plastic storage box near the back. "Found them." He said with a smile,  pulling them out and pouring some in the tub. He turned off the water when the tub was nearly full and offered a shoulder to Sherlock to help him climb in.

Sherlock accepted the help into the tub and he groaned in appreciation when he sank his whole body under the water except for his head. He leaned his against the back wall, eyes closed. He hadn't realized just how relaxing a bath could be. “Next time I do this, you are definitely joining me.” He cracked open an eye and smirked up at John. It wouldn't really be sanitary, but he wanted to just stay in the water all day. Christ. Maybe he should enjoy the little things out of life more often. He was always busy doing things only deemed important by him, he didn't really take time to enjoy life.

John helped Sherlock lower himself in. He sat up and just enjoyed the look on Sherlock's face as he sank into the water. "I was thinking about that actually." John said, sitting down on the toilet. He figured he could let Sherlock soak for a moment and then worry about trying to get him clean. Hopefully the salts would help a bit with that. "Not sure how clean we would get though. I mean me naked in a tub. I don't think you would be able to help yourself." John said with a smirk. Maybe he would have a wank tonight thinking about that. More like definitely. Sherlock probably wouldn't be able to do anything for a few days at least.

Sherlock smirked again at John's reply. “That was part of the plan, yes. Can't keep my hands off of you as it is. Definitely won't be able to with you naked all over me and wet.” While the water was relaxing, he found himself bored already. There wasn't a lot to do in a tub filled with water. He was half tempted to invite his slave into the water with him again, if only for some source of entertainment. He liked the feeling of the water on his sore body but he hated not having anything to do. He wasn't sure if he would be willing to soak for along time like he had initially thought.

"I could only imagine." John said with a small smirk. He was enjoying the image of Sherlock naked before him, dripping wet and panting with John's names on his lips. John couldn't decide if it was right after a bath or if Sherlock was just sweating. Both were oddly appealing. John coughed and shifted uncomfortably. John's face lit up like he had just remembered something, and then he ran into the bedroom. John grabbed Sherlock's phone and called for someone to change Sherlock's sheets as a favor to him. He hung up and went back in the bathroom with Sherlock. "Just let me know when you're done soaking." John said, looking up at Sherlock again. "So I can help you wash off. You need it." He said, his smirk now bigger than before.

Sherlock smirked back and he watched John curiously as his slave left the bathroom and then came back. He nodded, closing his eyes and let himself slip under the water fully for a moment. After a bit he resurfaced, wiping the hair from his face with both hands. The movement irritated his already sensitive body but he ignored it. He sighed and just laid in the water a bit longer. "The water is beginning to loose its temperature. Make the washing quick, please."

"Yes, sir." John said in the sarcastic way he did occasionally when Sherlock actually ordered him to do something. He grabbed the cloth and knelt beside the tub. He grabbed the soap and motioned for Sherlock to come closer to this side of the tub. John lathered up the cloth and began to carefully wash Sherlock's chest and arms. He moved Sherlock's body carefully when he needed too. He positioned his arms and pulled Sherlock's legs up so he could wash those. "Do you think the water is helping?" John asked, wondering if he would need to give Sherlock more pain pills after all.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but smirked at John's response at being told what to do. He forced himself not to move away from the cloth washing him, moving his legs when his slave repositioned them. “I think so. It is relaxing,” he admitted. He was still sore but his muscles weren't tense anymore. He glanced down at his battered torso curiously, to look at the discoloration. It probably looked worse than he felt. Well, maybe not. He felt like he'd got run over by a fucking freight train. In a few days he should be okay again. He didn't like being on bed rest all day.

John nodded and rung out of the cloth now that he was done washing Sherlock off. He grabbed the shampoo and poured some into his hair, glad that Sherlock had already wet his hair. He scrubbed Sherlock's scalp and hair which was oily after two days of not being washed. "They'll go away eventually." John said. He had noticed how Sherlock had looked down at his bruises. John smiled when he remembered being young and poking his own, willing them to go away and leave him alone. Luckily they didn't leave scars like the welts sometimes did. John had a few scars himself, but nothing horrible. "No need to worry about your perfect skin."

Sherlock smirked a bit. “I know they will. I am just annoyed with my predicament. I don't like being stuck in my room all day. It is quite dull.” His lower lip puckered out in a pout at the mere thought of bed rest. “As ridiculous as it sound, just being in the bathroom has been quite the treat for me.” It was why he had spent so long soaking in he tub. After he got out, it would be back to his room again. It wasn't something he was looking forward to doing. “Perhaps I can walk a bit tonight before we go to sleep.”

"It doesn't sound ridiculous." John said, wondering if Sherlock was yet again forgetting who he was talking too. Of course in John's case, getting to rest after being beaten would be a luxury. He had worked with more than a couple of bruises and welts over the years. That didn't mean he couldn't understand the monotony that was bed rest. John pushed the suds from his hands and wiped what was left on his trousers. "You can try if you want." John said. He actually meant he would help if Sherlock wanted, but that was implied. John smiled at the idea of Sherlock going around with a cane.

“Yes, I think I will.” Sherlock had already assumed John would help him get around when he tried to walk later that night. The thought of having to lean on his slave to walk bothered him but it wasn't as annoying as being stuck in the bed. Not only the water felt nice, but so did John washing him. He enjoyed the feeling when they showered together as well so it wasn't all that surprising. It just helped him relax even further, and eased the tension just a bit more on his bruises. 

John nodded and sat back on the edge of the toilet. He looked down at Sherlock who did look surprisingly relaxed for something who was so purple and blue. At least Sherlock didn't seem to be letting the beating get to him in any way. "You want me to rinse you off too?" John asked with a smirk. He stood up and grabbed a towel for Sherlock so he would be ready whenever his master decided to get out of the tub. The water was getting cold, and Sherlock should really rest before trying to walk at all.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the question. When the water became too cold for him to tolerate any longer he stood, goosebumps spreading on his skin as he came into contact with the air. Fuck. Standing had hurt but he was determined not to let it get the better of him. He would need help out of course and he loathed having to reach for John as he stepped out of the tub. With his slave's help, he managed not to fall on his face on the tiled bathroom floor. He took the towel and wrapped it around himself, not out of modesty but to offer his body some way of getting warm again.

John smiled at the reaction Sherlock gave him and helped him out of the tub gently. He was lucky Sherlock was so thin and light or else the task might actually be hard. He helped Sherlock into the bedroom and put an arm around him for support and also to keep him warm. He really had stayed in too long. John wondered if he should have said something. The last thing he needed was for Sherlock to be all banged up and have a cold at the same time. "You want pajamas?" John asked. He helped Sherlock to the bed and went to his dresser to find some warm night clothes. He really didn't need to get dressed. Sherlock had never objected to running through the house in his pajamas before, that's for sure.

Sherlock hated how much he hobbled and relied on John to get to the bed. It was a matter of pride really and he supposed of all the bruises he had endured from his father his ego had taken the most damage. He curled into the blankets the moment he was in the bed, not even noticing they were clean at all. It offered warmth and it was all that mattered to him. “Yes please and my robe too.” He quite enjoyed his robe really. It showed, since most of the time he would wear it around the house rather than 'proper clothing.' Something he had done since he was a child and had never really grown out of. In some ways, he was still very much a child but he never really examined that part of him all that closely.

John fetched the pajamas and sat them beside Sherlock. He was doing well enough he would probably want to put them on himself. John wasn't completely sure, but he did know Sherlock's sense of independence like to rear its ugly head at the worse moments. And even if he was doing better this still counted. He grabbed the robe and stood beside Sherlock, waiting to help him put it on like he would a jacked. John looked down at his master and wondered if he should try to make him eat again or something. Lunch would be soon with how much time Sherlock had spent in the tub. "Do you want more pain medication?" John asked carefully. The twelve hours were up so it shouldn't really be an issue, but John still felt nervous. Mistress's Holmes warning seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Sherlock groaned at having to leave the warmth of the sheets so he could dress, at least he could do that for himself. It was a small victory but one he had needed. He slipped into his robe, tying it loosely around the waist. He thought about the question longer than he probably should have, as John probably noticed but he finally nodded. “Yes. Did the label say anything about having to eat before taking it?” He wasn't hungry but it wouldn't be wise to take medication on an empty stomach if it called for food with it.

John picked up the bottle and turned it around. "Liquids are suggested." He admitted, reading the label over. He sat it down and looked to see if any of Sherlock's drinks where left before remembering that he had cleaned them all up yesterday before going to sleep. Wonderful. "I'll get you some food if you're hungry." John said hopefully. He was already moving to the door now that Sherlock was dressed and back on the bed where he needed to be. John himself needed to get as much done for Sherlock before he had to leave to do afternoon chores. He really didn't want Sherlock to go without food for that long in case he did end up getting hungry.

Sherlock nodded, happy he wouldn't have to eat. “I will be fine. Just some juice will be fine. I won't need to eat until tomorrow sometime or the day after if I'm not feeling up to it.” He knew it would upset John that he didn't eat but his slave was always trying to get him to do things he had deemed unimportant. He was just used to not eating too much, as he had conditioned his body to ignore basic needs like food and sleep. It gave him more time to do things, like read or experiments. Not that he could do any of that being stuck in bed all day. Well, he could still read. He'd have John get him a book when after his slave had returned with the juice.

"Tomorrow then." John said, ignoring the day after comment. He wasn't going to let Sherlock go two days without eating in this condition. He sighed and remembered back to when he was younger. At least Sherlock ate once a day then. It wasn't until puberty when John had started eating everything in sight that Sherlock had decided to give up eating. He ran down the steps and grabbed himself a lunch plate and Sherlock a bottle of juice. At least it had calories. He walked in the room and threw the juice bottle at Sherlock to catch. "You can wait till tonight to walk?" John asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and starting his own food.

Sherlock was staring in thought at the wall across from his bed, fingers under his chin when John came back. He heard his slave throw the bottle of juice and he reached out and caught it without looking. “Thank you.” He shook it before opening it. He finally turned his attention to the nightstand where the pain medicine was. He unscrewed the cap with his free hand and used a single, slender finger to fish one out. He popped it into his mouth and washed it down with the juice. “I don't want to, but you should get chores done around the manor.” He didn't want to risk his father finding a reason to beat John.

John eyed the pills and decided not to take them with him. Sherlock wasn't going to abuse them and even hinting that he might would just put him in a bad mood. "Thanks." John said. He finished his food and gathered up the few dishes in the room to take back downstairs. He went back over to Sherlock and kissed his forehead. He knew being in here was driving Sherlock nuts and he sympathized. "I'll try to finish quick. You need anything?" He asked.

Sherlock gave a small smile from the kiss and wished they would be able to do more already. He had almost forgotten about having John get him a book until his slave asked if he needed anything. “Grab me a book. One I haven't read in awhile.” He shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable on the bed. It was difficult since his body was still aching but hopefully the drugs would be working soon. He was determined to stay awake, even though the painkillers would likely make him drowsy.

John nodded and walked over to the bookshelf. Nothing fiction. Sherlock loathed most fiction and really just had them for John to read when he had a spare moment. He grabbed a book on the theory of something that looked like it hadn't been touched in a while and threw it to Sherlock. "Might last you still I get back." John teased as the book landed beside Sherlock. "I'll be back when I can." John promised. He left the room quickly and ran to the kitchen to get his chores list. Hopefully he would be off dinner duty tonight. He had had it twice in a row as pay back. Hopefully he could finish and just eat with Sherlock before taking him on a walk. John laughed at the thought.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John and then picked up to the book. He had read it already of course but it wouldn't hurt to go through it again. It would be better than just laying on the bed and doing nothing. He fell asleep in the middle of reading a sentence as the medicine made him drowsy and he wasn't able to fight the drug induced sleep.

John did his afternoon chores as quickly as he always did. He didn't get out of dinner duty, but found that he wasn't on the dishes list. He served the food quickly and stood as waitstaff through the dinner. He avoided Master and Mistress Holmes' gazes. Who knows what they were thinking about him. Nothing good he was sure. He ran back up stairs the second he was done. He walked in quietly, feeling a bit tired, and was surprised to see Sherlock sleeping peacefully. John blamed it on the pain medicine and sat in one of the chairs. Sherlock would probably wake soon. He never slept long and the pill would wear off soon.

Sherlock woke up with a small groan, the pain in his body registering once more. He was still a bit foggy with sleep, that he didn't notice John sitting in the room. He wanted the pain to go away, like it did when he took the medicine. He reached for the bottle of pills and opened them. He didn't take any of the medication out though. Stupid. He was a fucking idiot. He threw the bottle across the room with a growl of frustration, not caring that the pills had spilled all over the floor since he hadn't put the lid back on.

John stood up abruptly when Sherlock grabbed the pain pills, making the chair screech across the floor loudly. "Sherlock-" He said, but his master was already throwing the pill across the floor causing them to shatter. John sighed (in relief or frustration he wasn't sure) and put his hands in his face. He breathed deeply and then looked up at Sherlock was seemed irritated. "I know." He said, sounding a bit put out. He went over to where Sherlock had thrown the pills and began to pick them up. He put them back in the bottle. Sherlock may not want to use them now, but it wouldn't make a difference to the slaves downstairs.

Sherlock blinked in surprise as John's presence finally registered. Damn it! He hasn't wanted his slave to see that. He cleared his throat. "Just....get rid of them..." He wanted them but that was the problem. Jesus. He had only had two. But they made the paid stop. He sighed at how pathetic he was. At least he didn't have to worry about John telling his parents. His slave was pretty loyal to him, even when he didn't deserve it.

"I will." John lied. Not really lied. He was probably never going to see them again. Even if he was beaten and offered one he would probably decline. He didn't want to become an addict and others would need them more. He closed the cap on and stuck them in his pocket. He could give them to Mrs. Hudson tomorrow. He stood awkwardly, wondering what Sherlock wanted. He had to be embarrassed by what had happened. Sherlock hated to be dependent on anything. He hardly liked being dependent on John as much as he was. "Sleep well then?" He asked, adding a nervous laugh.

Sherlock scowled at the question. He wasn't mad at John, but at himself. He sighed and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Can we just not talk about it," he grumbled miserably.  He felt like an idiot and he was certain John thought he was too. Usually he didn't care what other people thought but his slave was the rare exception. He sighed again and rubbed his hand on his forehead.

"I didn't say anything of it." John said. He fiddled with the pills through his pocket and thought. He shook his head at his horrible idea and then figured what the heck. Sherlock could tell him no. But he wasn't going to let him sulk all night like this. "We don''t have to talk at all." John said with a small mischievous smile. He went to sit on the bed beside Sherlock, a good couple inches from him. He didn't want to touch anywhere with a bruise. He leaned down and kissed Sherlock chastely before pushing down with more intent. He let his tongue trace the seam of Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock was about to say something but then John moved over to the bed and kissed him. He could use the distraction right now so laid down on the bed completely, one hand grabbing onto his slave's shirt to pull him on top despite the bruises on his body. He sucked on John's lower lip, and then bit at it with a small growl of excitement.

John pulled back on Sherlock's grip. As much as he wanted to straddle Sherlock, he didn't want to hurt Sherlock. If that happened Sherlock might get hurt and irritated. He would end this before it even started. "Take it slow." John said, grabbing Sherlock's hand and returning it to the bed. He didn't have to be all demanding every time he took charge right? As long as he was telling Sherlock what to do it probably counted. He pushed into the kiss and held Sherlock's hand to the bed.

Oh. John wanted to assert control then. Not that he had a problem with. Quite the opposite really, since he had enjoyed it so much last time. Sherlock smirked a bit and allowed himself to relax against the hand holding his to the bed. He let his slave control the kiss, wondering what they could possibly get away with since he was injured. He didn’t' dwell on it too much because damn it he was kissing John and that was much more interesting than his wandering thoughts.

John traced his tongue over the inside of Sherlock's mouth and kissed him deeply. He brought his free hand up to hold Sherlock's head. He pushed his fingers into his thick curls but didn't pull like he had before. Sherlock was in enough pain and probably wouldn't be turned on from the hint of more. He let go of Sherlock's hand and reached to palm his cock. He pressed down lightly, hoping that Sherlock would be able to become hard like this. John knew Sherlock wouldn't be able too or even want to return the favor, but he could still do this for him.

Sherlock moaned into the kiss, eyes closing from the feeling of the hand in his hair. He moaned again and arched up into the touch without thinking of the consequences that would follow. Shit that hurt.. He wasn't sure he would be able to stay still while enjoying John's hand on his cock. His brain was a mess of sensations and it made it hard to focus. Well, he had been trying to just endure pain as his latest experiment but he wasn't sure if he would be able to get aroused enough to get hard. It wasn't going to stop him from trying and even though it was painful to do, he lifted his hips into John's hand once more.

John moved his hand onto Sherlock's hip and pushed him back down to the bed. He returned to his cock and continued to palm and rub at his cock. Sherlock had been responding so this had to be doing something for him. John still wasn't sure if Sherlock would be able to do anything while he was beat up like this. John had no prior knowledge for his since he had certainly never tried. He pulled back and kissed a bruise on Sherlock's face gently, and then his neck which wasn't as discolored. "Is this okay?" He asked.

Sherlock managed to still his hips when John pushed down on them. He let out a small whimper at the hand on his cock. It felt good but he was still having trouble getting hard. He wasn't sure if it was because his body just hurt too much to respond to the pleasure or if maybe there were trace amounts of the pain killers that was killing his libido. He smirked up at his slave a bit. “Yes but I'm not sure either of us are going to get the desired result.” It was frustrating to him because he could really use the distraction at the moment.

John sighed and pulled his hand away. No sense in frustrating Sherlock any more than he already was. He kissed Sherlock again and pulled away. He shifted and thought about relieving himself later after Sherlock had slept. "In a few days then. I suppose the pain is a bit of a mood killer." He said with a smirk, leaning in to kiss Sherlock again. He saw no reason they couldn't kiss for a while. Even if Sherlock wasn't going to get hard, John had nothing else to do tonight and the build up would only make everything sweeter later.

Damn it. Sherlock sighed as well and closed his eyes. He was annoyed at himself but there wasn't a lot he could do about it. Snogging was good though. He returned the kiss, still letting John control it. He didn't mind really. If anything, he quite enjoyed when his slave was in charge. Well, it wasn't the distraction he had been looking for but it would do. He could try to walk later. This was much more interesting to him.

John pushed into the kiss. He had half expected Sherlock to push him away. That or grab his hand and tell John to try harder. But the snogging was nice too. Sherlock let John control the kiss which in itself was intoxicating. John lost himself in the kiss and put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders. He pushed down hard before remembering. He pulled back suddenly. John got off the bed and stumbled back until he was nearly on the other side of the room. "Shit, sorry Sherlock." He said, cursing himself.

Sherlock was enjoying the kiss until John pushed down on his bruised shoulders, his eyes flying open in pained surprise. “Damn it John,” he muttered even though his slave had just apologized. The pressure had antagonized the dull feeling and made its throbbing presence impossible to ignore. Fuck. Well, maybe he wouldn't try walking tonight after all. He groaned, eyes closing once more as he tried to think about something else and failing.

John busied himself in the room. He was annoyed and worried but didn't really fear retribution. Sherlock didn't punish John even if he messed up on purpose. Which wasn't often but John had a delinquent side the same as most slaves his age. He figured he would wash Sherlock's disgusting clothes from the pass few days before going to bed or maybe just throw them away. They were disgusting. John shuddered and gathered everything up. "Are you going to sleep?" John asked standing at the door.

Sherlock locked himself away in his mind palace while John did whatever in the room. It only vaguely distracted him but the pain still lingered there like an annoying headache but worse. His slave's voice brought him back and he shook his head at the question. “No. I've slept far too much in the last few days as it is. I won't need to again for awhile.” He hated sleeping really, it just wasted time on things he could be doing elsewhere. Grant it, there wasn't a lot he could be doing currently but maybe he would get up out of bed while John slept and try and walk around on his own.

"You probably still should tonight." John said carefully. He frowned slightly and left the room. He knew Sherlock would probably run himself ragged trying to stay up. Nothing he could do about it anyway. Sherlock would heal no matter what, just slower than a normal person. John shrugged it off and went about his chores. He cleaned Sherlock clothes and helped with some after dinner chores. He wasn't really eager to go back and see Sherlock again. Hopefully he would pass out before John manage to get back up. Figuring he had wasted away enough time, John made his way back upstairs. He was tired and needed to sleep even if Sherlock didn't. He slipped and the door and looked over to the bed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at being told to sleep. It was bothersome to him and he was just stubborn enough to avoid it. Instead, he got out of bed at while John was gone and tried walking on his own. It was painful of course but not as bad as yesterday. He ignored it, determined to endure the torment he was causing himself as long as possible. He wore himself out at some point, and simply sat down on the floor. Eventually his slave opened the door and he gave John a small smirk, knowing his slave wouldn't be happy with him.

John turned his head quickly and saw Sherlock sitting in the middle of the floor. He opened his mouth, but then Sherlock smirked. John didn't have much to say in response to that. He smirked back and walked over to stare down at Sherlock. "Do if I leave you I get the bed to myself?" He asked at the same time he reached down to help Sherlock anyway. He really wasn't going to learn. Something about transport and over coming it. When Sherlock died it would probably be while running from his death bed. "You might actually want to rest tomorrow if you have to sleep on the floor."

Sherlock took the offered help, the smirk never leaving his lips. “If I end up sleeping on the floor, you will be right here with me John. You wouldn't want your Master to get cold, would you? I'd need you next to me for warmth.” The smirk grew fractionally as he made his way over to the bed slowly with his slave's help. He sunk into the bed with a small groan of appreciation. The bed was much more comfortable than the floor and certainly easier on his tired limbs.

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I would throw you a blanket." John promised. He help Sherlock onto the bed and pulled the sheet over him. He didn't care right now if Sherlock argued. If he was still in too much pain to even get an erection he probably shouldn't be up at all. Probably. It wasn't like John was a doctor or anything. He sighed and went to change into his pajamas. He honestly couldn't wait until Sherlock was back on his feet. Sherlock wasn't the best patient, and John hated this guilt that it was his fault. Sherlock's beating wasn't his fault. It was just Sherlock's own stubbornness getting him in trouble again. Still, he would have rather taken it himself. John stretched and walked back to the bed. "Am I okay to turn off the light, sir?" John asked with a large sarcastic smile. After the master comment he really couldn't help himself.

It was his turn to roll his eyes but Sherlock smirked anyway. "Just for that I should make you leave it on." He wondered if sleep would annoy him again tonight. He didn't plan on it but he was a bit worn out from forcing himself to walk. He shifted with a slight grunt, trying to get as comfortable as possible. It was easier to do tonight than last night at least. Despite his best efforts to stay awake he ended up falling asleep anyway.

John ignored Sherlock and cut off the light anyway. "I don't think you can stop me in your current condition." John said with a laugh. They both knew John would actually do anything Sherlock asked him despite the comment. John crawled into bed next to Sherlock, still keeping his distance from his master's bruised body. Hopefully tomorrow he could get Sherlock to eat again. He could try to help him hobble around the room and use that to tire him out and make him sleep again. Or maybe after tonight Sherlock would be able to get an erection and John could suck him off. John listened to Sherlock's breathing he was obviously sleeping and then feel asleep himself.


	19. Chapter 19

Once Sherlock recovered from the beating, he taught John how to use the mobile properly. Well, at least enough to text anyway. His slave got a license but he had been denied a new car. Instead, he had been given one of the many cars from the garage. He didn't know what kind or really care, only that it was black. A sedan of some sort maybe, with tinted windows. They got moved into the single bedroom flat (his parents had tried to get a two bedroom but he'd gotten his way with that one). Classes were boring like he thought they would be but he went through the motions of them anyway.

Sherlock met a bloke named Victor Trevor while at Uni. Nice enough, he supposed. Shortly after meeting, he told John that his duties as a pleasure slave were no longer needed. That didn't go over as smoothly as it could have but he was moving on with his life. Things went well enough at first until he got in a rather heated argument with Victor. He had lost the fight and almost all others that followed. He had picked up smoking, if only to help deal with his new boyfriend problems. It helped calmed his constantly frayed nerves. After yet another drunken brawl (well, Victor was drunk he was sober), he sent a text to his slave to come pick him up at the fraternity house he was at. Not really his thing, but his boyfriend had begged him to go. He had come to regret it, a common reoccurring theme lately in their relationship. He wanted to end it but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Fuck. He was a damned coward, wasn't he?

Things were never perfect, but in John's opinion they were always pretty alright. Things improved a lot when he and Sherlock left for Uni. The flat they shared was small enough to make his chores miniscule compared to what he used to have. He had a new car to drive (well not new, but new to him) and a small bit of freedom to go where he pleased when his master was in class. And for a while things had been good between him and Sherlock. Great even. They never said anything, but he couldn't help but to think and hope they were in a relationship of sorts. Not a real one, but as close as they would be allowed. But then Victor happened. His master told him he didn't need he as a pleasure slave anymore and he had gaped. He didn't really consider himself a pleasure slave to begin with, but Sherlock was making it clear that wasn't the case. He had taken a bit to get over it and had even considered moving to sleep on the sofa. But that was ridiculous. He had slept in Sherlock's bed long before he became a pleasure slave and that wasn't going to change. He figured he might have been able to be okay with everything, if it wasn't for Victor.

John hated Victor. Hated him. Hated his face. Hated the way he talked to Sherlock and the way he talked to him (he didn't talk to John. He talked at John or talked about him.) Hated his friends and the places he took his master. Hated when Sherlock came home with bruises from fights and who knew what else. And he hated when Sherlock texted him early in the morning to pick him up. He texted his master back quickly and got into the car to drive to the frat house. He sped as quickly as he dared and parked in front of the house before stepping out. Maybe none of the people here would know him personally and he could pass as a free person until he found Sherlock. That would make things a lot easier. "Sherlock?" He called out, looking for his master amongst the front lawn.

Sherlock had moved past the ruckus of people getting drunk or most likely completely shit faced. Victor was passed out in some bedroom upstairs, so it made getting away a lot easier. He only had a broken nose this time around. There was some droplets of blood on his clothes but he had cleaned his up face in the bathroom before texting John. He was outside smoking a cigarette when he heard his slave's voice. Thank God. It felt like he had been waiting forever, even though he probably hadn't. John hated his nicotine habit and he really wasn't in the mood to argue so he flicked the half smoked butt to the ground and crushed it out with his foot, hoping his slave hadn't noticed. He made his way over to John, without a word. He knew exactly how his slave felt about Victor and well...he was starting to see it, he supposed but that wasn't something he could admit at the moment.

John's heart skipped when he saw Sherlock. He hated when it did that. He didn't need to be having these feelings. All he should be worrying about was if his master was going to tell him to drive him to the hospital or just expect him to set his nose himself. "Just the nose?" He resisted the urge to grab Sherlock's chin and get a better look. He had been weird about touching Sherlock since the break up or whatever it was called. It was more like he had gotten fired really. He started to walk back to the car and bit back so many words. Bit back how stupid Victor was and how stupid Sherlock was for going with him. But that wasn't his place anymore. It had never been his place.

Sherlock would have snorted at the question, but that wouldn't be wise since his nose was still out of place and throbbing. “Let's just get back to our flat,” he muttered. At least he hadn't been caught smoking, not that he cared what John thought anyway. Well, he did but that wasn't something he planned on admitting either. He sighed and opened the door for himself and got in. He didn't care that his slave was supposed to do it. Really, he didn't care about most of the things a slave should be doing. He almost never enforced any of the rules his father had impressed upon him.

"Alright," John said. He got into the car and began to drive. God he would love to punch Victor in the face right now. He really would. He gripped the steering wheel tight until his knuckles turned red. He really couldn't take this much longer. "So was it him or one of the other drunken bastards at this party?" It didn't really matter...he couldn't do a thing to any of them. And Sherlock wasn't able or was just unwilling. They had done the self defense class, but like most things his master had grown bored of it. It was a shame. He had been doing rather well in the class.

Sherlock let out a long sigh and leaned his head against the seat rest, eyes closing at the question. “Victor,” he finally admitted after awhile. “I'm thinking of ending things.” He just wasn't sure how to go about it. It'd been easy enough with John...not that they had been dating of course. He sighed, eyes slowly opening. “I'm sure that will make you happy, I know you don't like him.” He managed a faint smirk but it wasn't cocky like he usually was.

John perked up but wasn't sure what to make of it. "What's to like?" He matched Sherlock's smirk with his own, though his probably had a bit more malice in it. He wasn't surprised to hear his mater knew how much he hated Victor. Really hated. This wasn't the first time he had hurt Sherlock and it wouldn't be the last if his master kept hanging around him. "Are you going to the ER or back to the flat?" John asked, stopping at the turn.

Sherlock shook his head. "Just to the flat please." He decided not to say anything more about Victor. He felt like an idiot and he wasn't even sure why he had stayed in such a toxic relationship so long. Stubborn pride he supposed. It would be admitting he was wrong. Something he had never been good at doing. It was time to swallow that pride though or things would only get worse. Maybe he should have stuck with those martial arts classed a little longer.

John nodded and turned towards the flat. He had enough experience that he could set a broken nose. Sherlock was going to hate him for it. He knew from experience it hurt as much getting fixed as it did getting broken in the first place. Probably even more so. He pulled up and parked on the side of the road in front of their flat. "I'll get the first aid kit." He got out his side of the car and went around to open Sherlock's out of habit. He wished he had been at this party tonight. He hated being at the flat by himself anyway, but he hated anytime his master got hurt and he wasn't around to prevent it.

Sherlock nodded a bit as he got out of the car. Sometimes it seemed like John worried over him more than his Mum did. He didn't like being fretted over really but it was less annoying when his slave did it at least. He walked into the flat and slumped down into his favorite chair. He was going to need another cigarette soon. He was feeling more stressed than usual. Would John give him a massage if he asked? They hadn't really had much physical contact sine he had met Victor. He had never been one to demand his slave to do something, mainly because John almost always said yes and there was no need to.

John grabbed the kit out of the bathroom and pulled the foot stool up in front of Sherlock's chair. Along with is broken nose he had a few scrapes that his master had probably done a mediocre job cleaning. He sighed and pulled out the disinfectant. He poured some on a disposable cloth and looked up at Sherlock. He would probably be better off being owned by someone else. He didn't hate being Sherlock's slave, but the emotions made it a bit unbearable. How was he supposed to act professional when he wanted to get in his car and run Victor over until all his bones cracked? He dotted his master's face and frowned as he smelled the tobacco on his breath.

Sherlock frowned himself as he studied John. "You always seem so pissed off when something happens to me. More than I am and I am the one who gets the shit beat out of me." He gave a halfhearted smirk. He had gotten better at dealing with pain, especially since he had started dating Victor. He managed not to flinch or pull away from John tending to his face.

"Well I'm suppose to care about you, yeah?" John looked down and avoided Sherlock's gaze. Lucky for him his master really did manage to see everything but the obvious. He knew he had feelings for Sherlock, but that didn't seem to matter in the slightest. And why should it? His master didn't return them and even if he did he would still be expected to end up with someone else free. Anyone but him really. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. More work for me.”

Sherlock gave a noncommittal response to the question, feeling like he was missing something, but he wasn't sure what. Which was annoying since he usually knew everything at any given moment. "Yeah, I guess." He frowned in thought but didn't say anything more about it. He was too distracted by other things to worry about it at the moment. Right now he just wanted to try and relax. "I want a massage tonight." A pause. "Please."

John finished cleaning Sherlock's few cuts and grimaced at his nose. He manage to grin at his master's request. " I suppose you need it after tonight." He hoped this wouldn't as painful for Sherlock as he thought it was going to be. "You might want to hold still." He warned. He held Sherlock's nose tenderly and snapped his nose back into place.

Sherlock gave a slight smirk. It was either a massage or smoke another cigarette. A massage would probably be more relaxing though, even though smoking sounded wonderful. He let out a muttered curse when his nose was reset, fingers balling up into fists. He exhaled through his mouth slowly, eyes closed as he tried to think of something else other than his throbbing nose. With his nose sensitive, he wouldn’t be able to lay on his stomach. Maybe just sitting on the floor would work. It would have to do he supposed, but that meant getting up from the chair. He sighed and stood slowly. “I'll sit on the floor,” he muttered absently and did so.

John leaned back as Sherlock dealt with the pain in his nose. He managed to hide his smirk. He couldn't help but think his master deserved it for all the stupidity he had been inflicting on himself lately. "That will work." He got up from the foot stool and sat crisscross on the floor behind him. He cracked his knuckles before starting with Sherlock's shoulders. After his master's first beating this was something he had started regularly doing and as such he had gotten pretty good at it. He dug his thumbs into Sherlock's shoulder blades while he rubbed the bottom of his neck. "So what did you fight about?" They were still friends so he could ask questions like that right? He usually didn't ask about Victor much, but he was a bit more curious now that Sherlock said he was actually going to leave him.

Sherlock relaxed into John's touch almost immediately. God it always felt so wonderful. He tilted his head down a bit, to give his slave a little more access to his neck and shoulders. “He wanted me try some heroin with him, I told him no.” It had been a simple enough fight and not the first time they'd had it. He had thought about saying yes just to get Victor to shut up. He wouldn't be an idiot and get addicted of course. Well, he wasn't going to start to begin with but he had told himself he wouldn't let some substance rule his life. Never mind he was already addicted to nicotine. He just told himself he needed to help relax and think clearer, it was as good excuse as any.

John raised his eyebrows in surprised. He wasn't sure what he was surprised about. He wouldn't put it pass Victor to be doing hard drugs, and it was only a little less likely that Sherlock would refuse them. He knew his master had an addictive personality. He had been a nymphomaniac the first few months after he had discovered sex and to him it appeared he had become addicted to cigarettes over night. He couldn't help but smile and under different circumstances he would have kissed Sherlock right then and there. He was glad his master couldn't see his face. "That's good. Very good." He worked his hands down Sherlock's back.

Sherlock refrained from mentioning he had considered it. He didn't want to have to worry about some sort of lecture from John. He had more than enough of them from his parents. Although, admittedly he was more likely to listen to his slave than his mother and father. Damn. John's fingers felt wonderful on his body. Was it too soon to ask his slave to shag him? Fucking was a pretty damn good stress reliever too. He supposed he could order John to do it, but he had never really been that sort of master to begin with and he didn't really plan on starting now.

John worked his hands down Sherlock's back in silence for a bit. He went down to his waist and then back up, trying to work every muscle he could to get his master to relax a bit. He rubbed Sherlock's neck and lightly massaged his scalp, running his fingers through his hair. He told himself this was good enough. He could be intimate with Sherlock like this and it could be good enough. He wouldn't put it past his master to ask him to ah- take care of his needs again after he got rid of Victor. If Sherlock did, he would give in (he wouldn't have a choice), but he had more than mixed feelings on the idea. He would be happy, but at the same time it would only be a matter of time until Sherlock was swept up by someone else more interesting than him. He sighed as he rubbed down the sides of Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock closed his eyes as he continued to enjoy his slave's fingers, especially through his hair. “John, how does one go about ending relationships? You were in a bunch before we started shagging, right? How did you do it?” It would probably start another fight with Victor, but sadly it was something he had gotten used to. The make up sex hadn't been too bad though. He sighed at his thoughts and tried to focus on John massaging his muscles and to stay relaxed.

John shrugged.  "They weren't real relationships. Just casual shags." He moved his fingers through Sherlock's hair again. "I just told them I was being used by you now." He didn't care how his master took that interpretation. He hadn't even be able to start hooking up with slaves again after Sherlock had broken it off. He was the only one in the flat. "You just need to tell him your fucking done with him in my opinion. Or done fucking him, which ever you think will make more sense to him." He gave a slight frown.

Without realizing, Sherlock matched John's frown at the advice. “Yeah I guess. What about through a text? Does that work?” He wasn't sure he would be able to do it in person. He might give into Victor's begging for the hundredth and second chance. It wasn't something he would be able to admit to his slave of course. He sighed and gave up trying to have John relax him with a massage and stood up abruptly. “I'm going out,” he muttered. Maybe a cigarette would work. He walked out the front door and pulled one from his pocket and lit up. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

"I guess it would." John really didn't care how Sherlock did it as long as it just got done. He wasn't even being selfish here; he was just caring for his master's well being. And that guy was not in Sherlock's best interest or anyone's really. He leaned back when his master suddenly got up. He cracked his fingers again and stood up, a bit worried. He looked out the window and saw that Sherlock just meant outside. For a second he thought he was really going back out, possibly to talk to Victor. He frowned at Sherlock smoking, but decided not to say anything this time. He needed to just be happy his master was ending things with Victor and not push Sherlock away from him. He stepped outside after his master and stood beside him, ignoring the smell. "Are you worried about him?"

Sherlock arched a brow at the question. “No...just thinking...” That was mostly true. He was trying to come up with best way to get rid of Victor with minimal contact. He decided a text would be easiest, for him. Best to do it now, before he talked himself out of it. He kept the cigarette between his lips firmly and pulled out his mobile. He didn't put much thought into his words, he rarely did, even with Victor. It basically said it was over and he stuffed the mobile back in his pocket. He ignored it when it alerted him of a new message. There. It was done. He continued smoking, hoping he would actually relax.

John nodded and leaned against the side of the building. He didn't look over Sherlock's shoulder as he sent the text. He could only hope that it was the break up message to Victor. The fact that his master didn't answer any of the reply messages (John had counted three so far) or even looked at them told him he was probably right. He sighed happily and let his head rest down. He wasn't sure what to say to Sherlock. Most of the time his master would be going on about someone's stupidity or one of his stupid classes. His days weren't exciting and he knew Sherlock loathed small talk. He looked up at the sky and thought about the chores he needed to get done the next day. He sighed and remembered something. "Any luck with getting a case?"

Sherlock finished the cigarette and flicked the butt to the ground. He let out a sigh. “No. No one will take me seriously, despite how brilliant I am. They all just smile and tell me I'll make a good Detective Inspector and keep working hard at Uni.” He rolled his eyes at that. Why did it matter he hadn't graduated yet? He was perfectly capable of deducing things, better than most of the coppers in the Yard. They were all so stupid. He sighed and lit up another cigarette. Feeling more frustrated and not even remotely relaxed now. After the fifth alert on his mobile he gave in and read it. “Fuck...Victor is coming over here to talk things out with me...” He really didn't need that right now.

John rolled his eyes at the clients responses. Sherlock was already more brilliant than any of the DI's, he was sure of that. "Fucking morons." He hoped to lift Sherlock's mood some. He did love to talk about how stupid people were. He nearly reached to stop his master when he pulled out another cigarette. "You shouldn't chain smoke, Sherlock." He frowned as his master breathed in another breath of the disgusting stuff. He was suddenly glad Sherlock had only started that after they had stopped having sex. Wouldn't want to kiss that mouth. His master's mobile went off again and he waited with some anxiety as Sherlock answered it. "Fuck," he answered, mirroring Sherlock's own words. "Do you want me to-" He wasn't sure how to finish. He wanted to return the bloody nose for his master, but he could get into a lot of trouble. Victor could charge assault, and Sherlock would have to pay a fine as his owner.

“I want you to go inside. I'll take care of Victor.” Sherlock discarded the half finished cigarette to the ground. He didn't think it would be a good idea for his slave and ex-boyfriend to be in the same space. He began pacing, trying to think of what he should say when Victor finally showed up. A car swerved into view and parked. It was amazing Victor had been able to drive without wrecking. Still drunk then. Great. This would only end up in a heated argument. He could do this. He just had to picture arguing with his old man. That would do, he supposed.

"Alright, just be careful." John stepped inside. He didn't go any farther than that. He supposed he probably should go up to his and Sherlock's own flat and mind his own damn business but no. Not right now. Not then that bastard was probably planning on beating the shit out of his master again. Or he was just going to be pathetic and beg for Sherlock to come back. He stood at the door and leaned against the door so he could listen to whatever was going on out there. He stopped breathing for a moment when he heard the car stopping in front of the flat. He would have no problem going out there and taking care of Victor. No problem at all.

Sherlock stopped pacing when he heard the car door shut. It didn't take long for Victor to begin begging and apologizing. Nothing new. It happened after almost every fight they had. He would just have to be firm and keep his resolve. After refusing Victor several times, the shouting began. Then the shoving shortly after. It wasn't long before an all out brawl ensued and they were both on the ground rolling around. Usually, he would just let Victor relieve the stress and not fight back but he was in a bad mood himself and he wasn't going to stand there and take it anymore. He had a bit of an edge since his ex was drunk and ended up on top of Victor and his rage he didn't stop punching the prone man in the face.

John listened carefully to the argument as he leaned against the door. Man this guy was a desperate creep. He wanted nothing more to go out there and tell him to get the fuck away from Sherlock. But surprisingly his master seemed to be doing that himself. He felt his temper only increase from the yelling and nearly pushed the door down when the shoving started. It was only when he heard them crash to the ground that he opened the door. "Get off of him!" He yelled, running down the stairs, but saw the situation reverse of what he expected. Sherlock was beating the shit out of Victor. He blinked and saw blood dripping down the side of the man's face. He ran up behind Sherlock and grabbed his shoulders. "Stop Sherlock, you have him. He's down." He hoped to break through his master’s rage.

Sherlock blinked a bit when John touched his shoulder, the haze of rage finally fading. He wasn't sure if he had been so angry because it was what he had wanted to do that to his father for so long or if Victor had really just pissed him off that much. Maybe a bit of both. “I said we are done,” he growled and finally got off the his bloodied ex. His knuckles would be bruised and in pain, once he calmed down a bit more to notice. He walked back into the flat, assuming his slave would follow without need to be told or asked.


	20. Chapter 20

John stepped back when Sherlock got off of Victor. As much as the man deserved it, he hoped his master hadn't gone too overboard. Victor's family wasn't exactly small or the weak sort. Sherlock could get into some serious trouble if Victor wanted to admit he had gotten beaten up by his ex. He frowned down at Victor and resisted the urge to hit the fallen man, before following his master back inside. He walked back up the stairs to Sherlock's flat and locked the door behind him. "Hey are you okay?" He asked, more than a little worried. He wanted to look over his mater and make sure he was okay. Especially the knuckles. He couldn't tell whether the blood was his or Victor's.

Sherlock slumped into his chair with a sigh. He hadn't realized he'd had that kind of fight in him until now. Should he be worried about that? Is that the kind of anger his father felt so often? Damn it. He didn't even want to think about that, let alone compare himself to the old man. He glanced over to John and shrugged. “I am fine. Probably busted a few knuckles but that tends to happen when one uses their fists with force in a fight.” Another shrug and he closed his eyes, at least feeling a little more relaxed than he had when he had come home from the party.

John nodded and looked at the first aid kit that was still on the table next to Sherlock's chair. "Can I bandage them at least?" He sat in his chair that was still close to his master's. He could tell something was bugging Sherlock. He was bugged too. Bugged that that arse had driven his master, who couldn't fight to save his life, to this. He was still surprised Sherlock had managed to land a punch much less as any as many as Victor had walked away with. Or that he had tackled him in the first place. "I'm glad you told him to fuck off, but it won't be great if you wake up with a bloody infection tomorrow."

Sherlock held out his hands, when John asked to bandage them. He was trying to ignore his thoughts. Maybe talking about something inconsequential with his slave would help. His eyes opened and he returned the smirk. “Surprisingly, he is clean. When he was actually sober and just sleeping, I pricked him with a needle and did a blood test on him.” He gave a slight shrug as if that had been a normal thing to do when dating another person. He still didn't sleep much and he had gotten bored one night.

"Doesn't mean you still can't get infected with something." John held one of Sherlock's hands carefully as he started to clean them off. The blood was probably a mix, seeing how a few of his master's knuckles had been bloodied in the process of knocking the shit out of Victor. He bandaged them quickly in a way that came with a lot of practice and started on the other hand. He didn't really question Sherlock drug testing Victor in the middle of the night. He was well aware of his master's need to know everything and this was probably no different. "Well for everything he was at least he didn't add drug addict to the list." He laughed but it had no humor in it.

Sherlock shrugged a bit, seemingly not worried about it like John was. He watched his slave work, as he had often done before they had gotten a flat near his Uni. Another shrug. “He...was something...” He admitted. Now that he sat and thought about it, he couldn't remember what had drawn him to Victor in the first place and he felt like an idiot for staying with him so long. A lesson worth learning he supposed. He was never going to let a relationship get in the way of his life again. It just wasn't worth it. And any sexual release he may need, John could take care of. It was win-win to him.

John snorted at Sherlock's summary of Victor. "Yeah, something." He spoke with a small eye roll. He finished cleaning and bandaging his master's hand before standing to put the first aid kit away. When he returned to Sherlock, he managed to smile and rub his hand in his master's hair. Sherlock still hated it but he had never stopped. "You should probably sleep tonight." He tried to count the number of days it had been. Even if Sherlock had slept yesterday, he would still recommend it like he always did. But tonight after the break up and then the fight, his master was going to need it even more.

Sherlock returned the eye roll at the hand in his hair and then again at begin told he should sleep. He wasn't sure he would be able to. His mind was working furiously right now. It was difficult to turn it off once it started. He wondered idly if drugs would help with that but he pushed it aside for now. “Maybe,” he finally relented. He didn't get up from the chair, fingers coming to rest under his chin once John had finished bandaging them.

John smirked at the eye roll. At least it wasn't a flat out no. He sat down in front of Sherlock and felt the need to comfort him some how. Which was ridiculous. His master had never taken well to comfort no matter how sincere he was. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, thinking that Sherlock had gone off to his mind palace or something else. Probably trying to delete Victor, he thought with another smirk. His master spoke again and John smiled. "You should. You'll probably see him tomorrow." He didn't know how obsessed with Sherlock Victor was, but he had come all the way to the flat.

Sherlock shrugged. "John, please be quiet. You know I hate small talk, especially when I am thinking." Had it been anyone else besides his slave he would have told them to merely shut up in an even ruder way. He knew John was just trying to comfort him but he didn't really take well to it, from anyone. He sighed and closed his eyes.

John rolled his eyes but didn't argue. "Alright." He stood up, stretching a bit. He had nothing else to clean today and would take care of Sherlock's bloody clothes tomorrow while he was at uni. He figured it was time to take a shower and go to bed, regardless of what his master did. He would either sleep or run himself ragged in sleep. He nodded (though Sherlock didn't see it) and walked into the bedroom they still shared and into the master bath. He turned on the shower and stepped into the hot water.

Sherlock barely took notice of John as he continued to sit in the chair, unmoving and hardly even blinking when his eyes opened once more. His slave had made a valid point. He would still see Victor on campus and even shared a class with his ex. He couldn't skip class forever to try and avoid Victor. He could just ignore him like everyone else be supposed. It couldn't be that hard, right? He sighed again, wishing he had let John distract him after all.

John took his time showering. He knew he was lucky to have a 'master' who let him do as he wanted mostly, but right now all he could think was he had the most stubborn master who would let himself be ran into the ground before he honestly let him help with anything. He figured he had to trust Sherlock would be able to stand his own tomorrow. He wasn't supposed to go to class with his master. He got out and got dressed before sticking his head out the door so he could call out to the sitting room. "Going to sleep or are you going to join me anytime soon?"

It took a moment for him to hear John's voice. Sherlock blinked his eyes a few times and finally focused in on his slave. He was about to say 'no' but decided to nod instead. He got up from the chair slowly, disrobing his bloodied clothes as he walked. He still discarded his things on the floor without a care. He didn't bother changing into pajamas and merely crawled into the bed. He wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep but maybe being close to John would help relax him.

John was surprised by the nod but didn't say anything about it. He climbed into bed, not really caring how Sherlock was throwing his clothes around. Since leaving the manor he had become a lot less fussy. He didn't have anyone to answer to, and no one would punish him if he let his master's clothes lay around over night. He turned to face the wall instead of facing Sherlock. "Good night." He wanted to tell his master how glad he was that Sherlock had finally left the bastard, but the only thing his master probably hated more than small talk was sentiment.

Sherlock frowned when John turned away from him. Fine. He turned away as well, pouting. He didn't need something as stupid and sentimental as comfort anyway. He stayed awake for a bit but he eventually fell into a restless slumber. He muttered a lot in his sleep, tossing and turning. He woke up again, when it was still dark out. He sighed and didn't feel refreshed at all. The dreams hadn't been nightmares per set but not enjoyable either. Another sigh escaped his lips as he stood and headed to the shower, intent on taking a long hot one.

John didn't sleep well either. Sherlock was usually a sound sleeper when he did sleep (though he did spread out far to much) but tonight was different. He woke a few times and considered waking Sherlock up too from his obviously uneasy sleep. But he didn't want to ruin Sherlock sleep completely. John his master awake and staring at the wall when he heard Sherlock sigh. He thought about asking him what was wrong, but wasn't sure the sentiment would be worth it. When his master got up from the bed, he finally rolled over to look at him. "Are you alright?" He asked, noting it was still just three o'clock in the morning.

Sherlock was about half way to the bathroom when heard John speak. He turned and gave his slave a shrug, even though it probably wouldn't be able to be seen in the dark. "I am fine. Didn't sleep well," he admitted with another shrug. "You should go back to sleep." There was no way he would be able to but John needed rest like most normal people did.

"If you're sure?" John bit his lip. Even if Sherlock wasn't fine he wouldn't admit to it. Asking for a massage was as far as his master went in admitting he wasn't fine. He sighed and pulled the blanket back over him. He stared into space right around where Sherlock probably was and laid his head down. "Good night then." Maybe without Sherlock he would actually snag a few hours of sleep.

Sherlock didn't bother answering, and when he heard more than saw John roll back over to sleep he walked the rest of the way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, and flicked on a light. He squinted some until his eyes adjusted to the light, turned the shower to as hot as it would get and got inside. He didn't really clean up, merely let the spray fall over him as he stood motionlessly under the hot water. He didn't leave until the water began getting cold. He dried off and then wrapped the towel around him, more for warmth than out of any sense of modesty. He left the bedroom and went to his laptop. He sent emails to his professors informing them he was terribly sick and wouldn't make it to class. Despite how boring he found sitting in a lecture room was for him he had never skipped class and even did the mind numbing work to go with it. So, missing a day shouldn't be that big of a deal. He took out a cigarette and lit up, inhaling the smoke deeply and exhaling slowly. Maybe that would help improve his mood.

John woke up a few hours later feeling a lot better. The time on the clock told him it was nearly ten which meant Sherlock would already be in class for the day. Good. He smiled and stretched his arms high above his head. He could start the laundry and then make himself breakfast. Or maybe he would go out. Ask Sarah if she had the morning off and meet her up for breakfast somewhere. He still had a bit of money from last time his master gave him some for groceries. He dressed in something semi decent and sent her a text before leaving the room to pick up Sherlock's string of clothing. He was humming happily when he finally looked up and noticed Sherlock was there. "Christ." he said, being caught off guard. "What are you doing here?"

Sherlock had ended up smoking the rest of the pack of cigarettes but still felt no better. He was still in the towel when John walked out. He arched a brow at his slave but gave a thin smirk. "Good morning to you too. Or is it afternoon now?" He honestly wasn't sure what time of day it was. "I decided not to go." H shrugged and eyed John's outfit. "Going out to meet someone. A woman..." He frowned a bit at that. He was going to need more than cigarettes to get him through this day.

"Its still morning." John looked over Sherlock and frowned. The room reeked of cigarettes, not that he wouldn't have been able to figure it out with the ashtray and empty pack on the table. And he was still in his towel for Christ's sake. "Yeah, maybe." He down at his mobile while he spoke. "She hasn't texted back yet." He shrugged as he sat across from Sherlock. "So what? You are just going to lay in your towel all day?" He wondered if he wouldn't be allowed to go out now. He would be here if Sherlock needed him to be, though he might stay anyway if his master kept this up.

It wasn't like he had any right to be jealous, not that he was of course. Sherlock shrugged again. “I am fine. Go on your date.” If John went out, he could leave without having his slave following him around. Maybe he could sneak off somewhere. He didn't really drink but he could use one. Or maybe he could find a harder drug. He wasn't sure what was going on with him at the moment, but it was annoying him and he wanted to make it stop or at the very least distract himself long enough so he wouldn't be thinking at all. Usually his fast paced mind didn't bother him but now he was willing to do just about anything to turn it off.

"Its not a date," John said with a shrug. "Really. We're just friends." He didn't do dates, even after Sherlock had 'ended it.' If he had the opportunity he would get off sure, but finding a place to do that was near impossible. And on top of that Sarah's master graduated next semester and would be leaving with him. And he would leave with Sherlock when he graduated. They both knew that anything they had was very temporary. His mobile went off and he dug it out of his pocket. She was free and could meet him at the cafe down the street in twenty minutes. He texted back and looked Sherlock over again. "Any plans?"

Sherlock was lost in his thoughts and he wasn't really paying attention to what John was saying anymore. He only focused back in on what his slave was saying at the question. “Hmmm? No. I will just stay at home.” He shrugged off his lie. He had no intention of staying at the flat at all. He needed to get out and find away to stay the hell out of his head, even if it was only temporarily. If he told John about it, his slave would try and talk him out of his actions most likely and he was not in the mood for an argument.

Sherlock wasn't even paying attention. John rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright then," he said standing up. No use in talking to his master anyway when he was like this. Sherlock would be a brick wall until he snapped out of his own head. "I'll bring you something back." He shrugged his jacket on and double checked that his wallet was in his pocket. He wondered if he would need to pay for Sarah or if she had been able to swindle some grocery money too. Not that he stole or anything. He was positive Sherlock knew he gave him too much for the shopping. He left the flat and went down the stairs.

Sherlock sighed after John left and ran a hand over his face. He couldn't believe how weak willed he was being, when he prided himself on being stubborn and strong...well of the mind at least. Yet here he was thinking of turning to alcohol or stronger drugs to get him through the day. He stood up, kicking over the chair he was sitting in purposefully and let a growl of frustration. He sighed again, got dressed sloppily and left with a slam of the door. He wasn't entirely sure where to score drugs, without finding Victor and he didn't want to do that. Was there a pub even open at this hour? He decided to just go to the store, and buy a bottle of scotch. Hard liquor would get him drunk faster. He he headed back to the flat and instead of pouring himself a glass, he drank from the bottle. The liquor burned on the way down and he made a face as he swallowed, not used to the taste. God. This stuff was awful.

John went to the cafe and made small talk the best he could. He usually got on great with Sarah, but today he was mostly focused on Sherlock and what his master was up too. He knew he wasn't fine, but worrying over him would only irritate him further. Sarah could tell he was distracted and cut the meal short, saying she had errands to run for her master. He kissed her on the cheek and told her they could meet up again next week. He hurried home and took the steps two at the time. He was surprised when he opened the door and found Sherlock there. "Hey I-" He stopped when he saw the bottle of scotch on the table. He nearly laughed. "So, still doing okay?"

Sherlock was not enjoying the taste but he continued to drink anyway. Eventually he became numb to the burning sensation on his tongue, inside his mouth and down his throat. He had managed to drink about half by the time John came back home. Being an inexperienced drinker and his body weight it really didn't take him long to get drunk. “There's nothin' wrong wif me,” he slurred out and went to stand but ended up stumbling back into the chair.

John burst into laughter at Sherlock's slurred speech. "You're going to hate yourself in a few hours." He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. Beneath the laughter, he was really worried. His master had never been one to drink. The few times he had tried the stuff he had deemed it horrid and not worth the effort. And here he was through half a fifth of scotch. He carried the water to Sherlock and put it on the table before him. He grabbed the scotch and took a swig before putting the cap back on, holding it up and away from his master. "Sherlock. Why did you even get this stuff?"

Sherlock scowled when John laughed at him. He grabbed and missed the bottle when it was taken away from him. “Bastard,” he muttered but slumped into the chair into defeat. “Wanted to...stoff thinkin'...” His speech was still slurred but he didn't seem to notice. “....'bout you...Wictor...everythin' is all mixed up in muh head...” He rubbed a hand just above his eyebrows, not realizing had he been sober he wouldn't have been telling his slave anything.

"You wanted to stop thinking?" John asked, a bit surprised. He couldn't fathom why Sherlock would still be thinking about Victor. Or him for that matter. He was always here, not much to think about. He pulled his chair closer to his master and sat down across from him, putting the scotch on the floor away from Sherlock. He picked up the glass of water and held it in front of his master's face. "You need to drink. And talk."

Sherlock nodded at the question. “Everythin' all mixed up,” he repeated. He blinked at the glass of water in front of him. “'mfine.” He shoved at John's hand as best he could with his foggy mind. “Dun need to talk.” He was feeling a bit sick and drowsy. He groaned and placed his forehead on the table. “I've made a mess of things,” he muttered with surprising coherency. He lifted his head back up and looked at his slave with an unfocused gaze.

"You look fine too." John walked around and knelt down by Sherlock. If he felt bad now he was going to be hell in the morning. He pushed his master's hair back, wondering if Sherlock was too drunk to remember this anyway. "I don't think you'll be thinking much tonight." He gave a soft smile. This was still funny, but he could play nice nurse for tonight. "You've made a mess of yourself more than anything. What are you even thinking about?"

“Nothing! 'sthe whole point in drinkin'!” Sherlock exclaimed as it was the most obvious answer. “...should've never dated him...or left you...'m an idiot...” The words were mumbled and barely audible. He hadn't even really realized he had said anything. He groaned, turned his head and vomited on the floor by the chair. God, he felt terrible. Drinking had seemed like a good idea at the time and it had helped him not think but it seemed to leave him with not inhibitions while speaking.

John looked at Sherlock in a bit of shock. His master had just called himself an idiot and admitted he regretted 'leaving' him. He thought he had just been relieved of duty in Sherlock's mind. He was about to say something when his master suddenly groaned and he found himself falling back to avoid the vomit. "Oh fuck." He walked around the chair and to Sherlock's other side. "Cmon I'm taking you to the toilet." He was perfectly prepared to carry his master there. He put an arm behind Sherlock's and the other under his knees.

Sherlock stumbled to his feet and followed John to the bathroom. “'msorry.” He wasn't sure if he was apologizing for almost throwing up on his slave or for breaking things off. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited again. If getting drunk was this horrid all the time, he was never going to do it again. He leaned his head against the side of the sink. He closed his eyes but he hadn't passed out yet, he was just trying rest for a bit.

"Its alright," John said, pulling Sherlock into the bathroom. He fumbled as hism aster fell out of his arms and onto his knees. At least he reached the toilet he thought with a happy sigh. He was going to have to get a damn carpet cleaner for the sitting room. "You're a git you know that?" Sherlock finished throwing up and he stroked his hair back that was sticking to his forehead. He grabbed a cloth off the rack and rinsed it in cold water before laying it on the back of his master's neck. "You want to get to bed?" He hoped the answer was yes. He needed to clean up the vomit before the smell went through the whole house.

Sherlock leaned into John's touch a bit, finding it comforting. He always had. Something he had never told his slave before...had he? It was hard to think. Should he say something now? “Yes...perhaps that would be best...” He stood slowly, using John for support and made it to the bed with his slave's help. “Lay with me? Like snugglin' next to you. Miss it,” he admitted. He brought the covers up to his chin and ended up passing out before John could answer.

"Yeah." John let Sherlock put most of his weight on him. He pulled the blanket down and help Sherlock into the bed, covering him with the sheet. He felt a small pain in his chest as his master's words, but it went away as soon as he realized he had fallen asleep. "Yes, just let me clean up first." Clearly, he was speaking to no one in particular. Shouldn't be surprising...Sherlock had always been one to cuddle. He pulled a few things from the kitchen and went to do his dirty work.

Sherlock slept better in his drunken stupor than he had the night before, but still only slept for a few hours. When he woke up, he had a hell of a headache. “John,” he mumbled as his eyes slowly opened. Fuck. He was never drinking again. That had been a terrible idea, even if he had been able to stop thinking for a little while. His recollection on anything he had said or done was fuzzy at best but apparently at some point his slave had tucked him into bed. Or maybe he had walked to the bedroom himself. That seemed unlikely though. He was pretty sure walking would have resulted with him sprawled on the floor somewhere.


	21. Chapter 21

John opened his eyes when he heard Sherlock say his name. He was laying on his back right beside his master. He had cleaned the carpet the best he could and had gotten Sherlock's laundry going before coming in here. But he figured he wanted to be close in case his master threw up in his sleep or something else idiotic. He rolled to his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "Over here genius." He tapped Sherlock on his shoulder. "Are you sober or do I need to knock you back to sleep?"

Sherlock cringed at the voice next to him, it seemed louder than it probably was. “Don't talk so loud and I'm fine now. I just have a horrid headache. I believe...this is what is known as a hangover.” He managed a faint smirk as he rolled over to face John. “I didn't do anything too stupid did while I was drunk, did I?” He still couldn't recollect much of anything that had happened. God he was an idiot sometimes. He moved to sit, using the head of the bed to lean against.

"Yeah that happens." John frowned. He wanted to reach out and rub Sherlock's hair, but he figured that would be unwelcomed. Wouldn't help his headache any at the very least. He smiled a bit maliciously at his master's question. "You admitted how much you like to snuggle. And you asked me to stay, but I had to go clean your vomit off the floor." He wondered how much he could embarrass his master before he was told to shut up. "Oh and you called yourself an idiot for being with Victor." He didn't mention Sherlock had said he regretted leaving him. It probably didn't mean much anyway.

Sherlock groaned at everything John told him. Definitely never drinking again then. Apparently he was quite talker without any inhibitions. He didn't bother to confirm or deny any of it. He had vomited as well. Lovely. That would mean he would have to eat sooner rather than later then. He turned his head to look at John, a slow smirk forming on his lips. “Now, be a good slave and go get your master some aspirin. Unless you want to hear me complaining about how much my head hurts the remainder of the day.

John changed his mind and ruffled Sherlock's hair as roughly as he could without it being obvious abuse. "You got it sir." He spoke in a loud, overly sarcastic voice. He jumped out of the bed before his master could yell at him and high tailed it out of the room. Sherlock deserved it for puking on the carpet anyway. He grabbed the cup of water that was still on the table and the bottle of aspirin from the kitchen cabinet. He opened it and poured two into his hands. He didn't like to admit that what Sherlock's mum had told him effected him, but it did. And even more he felt more comfortable giving his master just pills instead of a whole bottle. He walked back into the room, holding out the peace offering.

Sherlock scowled at John for the treatment but he didn't have the energy to say anything about it. His head was pounding and his slave was tormenting him. The bastard. He couldn't ever be mad at John too long he found. He took the pills and the water, and washed down the aspirin. “Thank you, even if you were an arse about it.” He gave a smirk and went back to resting against the headboard of the bed. At least he hadn't done or said anything too embarrassing while drunk.

John smirked back and took the water to put on Sherlock's side table. "You are lucky I wasn't an arse earlier." He looked at his master with a sly grin. "You would have told me anything I asked. And I could have recorded it." He sighed like he had missed an opportunity. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat next to Sherlock. Hopefully his master was never going to drink heavily like that again. Not that he had even drank that much. He obviously just didn't have the blood for it.

Sherlock rolled his eyes which irritated his still present headache. He had already admitted to liking to snuggle apparently so he scooted closer to John and placed his head on his slave's shoulder. “I will be eating today, I think. Maybe we can order some take away. Pizza perhaps.” It wasn't a food commonly served at the manor, at least not for the family but he had discovered he quite liked it since coming to Uni. He didn't care if he was falling into the stereotype.

John put his arm around Sherlock in response to the head on his shoulder. He supposed he could probably tease his master a lot more about the cuddling, but then Sherlock might stop. And he really didn't mind in the least. "What's the occasion?" He hoped Sherlock would be able to keep it down. He had probably gotten most of it out of his system when he had puked right? "Pizza sounds good. We can watch crap telly while we eat." He grinned, his fingers running up and down his master's arm lazily.

Sherlock shrugged a bit. “You said I vomited, so any nutrients I had in my body should be replenished. I should be able to eat fine now. I think the alcohol should be out of my system.” He groaned at the mention of crap telly but didn't say anything against it. He smirked a bit. “If we do that we could play a game of Cluedo.” John hated playing with him but he figured he hated crap telly as much as his slave hated the game.

John nodded as Sherlock confirmed what he had already thought. And completely missed his subtler sarcasm, but he was a bit use to that now. He winced at the idea of Cluedo. He didn't know what his master's obsession with that game was. Sure he wanted to work at crime scenes, but that game wasn't really good practice. "Fine, but you have to follow the rules." He leaned down into Sherlock a bit more. He was comfortable and was hoping whatever was going on with his master earlier was out of his system now.

Sherlock scowled. “I do follow the rules! They are just  _ wrong _ .” The headache was ebbing but he still regretted his decision to raise his voice. He didn't want to get up yet. He really had missed snuggling with John and it was relaxing him more than anything the alcohol ever did to help him momentarily forget. “What do you think of returning to way things were? With being friends with benefits?” He knew John didn't like being thought of being a pleasure slave.

John chuckled at Sherlock's irritation, but didn't feel the need to answer back. He was fine enjoying the comfort and quiet. He was sure his master was too with his hangover. He felt perfectly relaxed when Sherlock had to go and open his trap. He sucked in a breathe and then exhaled slowly. His first instinct was to say yes. He missed being like that. But he also knew that he always made it out to be more than it actually way. "And when you meet another Victor?" He asked, feeling like he was going out on a limb. 

Sherlock noticed the change in John's demeanor and frowned, wondering if maybe he had asked too soon. “I am never dating again. It was a waste of time and clearly a bad idea.” He refrained from mentioning how he hadn't even felt near as relaxed with Victor as he always felt around John. He figured no one would make him as comfortable as his slave did. He sighed at his thoughts, trying to ignore any sentiment that was threatening to take over. Well, so much for being relaxed. He wanted to turn away and pout, but it would meaning leave John's warm body.

John pulled Sherlock closer at his words. He shouldn't get sentimental or let feelings become involved. He knew his master wasn't going to return that. He wasn't sure if Sherlock was capable of seeing him in that light. But his master said he was never dating again, and he believed him. Sherlock hardly liked anyone. His master finding another person he liked that could also tolerate him probably wasn't likely. He sighed and kissed the side of Sherlock's head before leaning his head against his master's again. "If that's what you want."

Sherlock had been worried for a moment but then he relaxed when he heard John agree. “Yes, it is. I would quite like it,” he admitted. Maybe they could skip Cludeo and crap telly in exchange for something more exciting. He rolled so he could straddle his slave and leaned down to kiss John on the lips but it didn't last long. Ugh. Things might have to wait until he was completely over the hangover. Eating would help with that. He stared down at John with a smirk. “After we eat pizza, want to pick this up where we left off?” He pressed down into his slave with a bit of eagerness and kissed John again, even though he wasn't feeling that much better from the alcohol.

John didn't even act surprised when Sherlock straddled him. Despite how much he claimed his body was just transport, his master had always had a healthy sex drive. He put his hands on Sherlock's hips and leaned into the kiss only to pull away. He made a face and resisted the urge to spit. He still tasted like booze and sick. "Yeah and you have to brush your teeth." He was being completely serious, that tasted foul. He turned away from the kiss and instead kissed Sherlock's neck softly.

Sherlock smirked a bit, even though he could tell John was being serious. He didn't think he was going to be able to enjoy things until the hangover passed but then his slave started kissing his neck. He closed his eyes, quite enjoying that feeling on his skin. God, he had missed more than just snuggling with John. Things had never been like this with Victor. It was all rough and tumble sex. He probably shouldn’t' be thinking about another bloke while on top of his slave and it the fact that it was Victor ruined his mood. He sighed, pulled away and rolled back onto the bed.

John kissed down to Sherlock's collar bone. He had missed this. They still shared a bed regardless, but this was being close in a different way. He felt his cock give a tinge of interest as he thought about being intimate with his master. Fucking him or riding his cock. Sherlock had never really worked out how to be in charge much to his delight. He looked at his master a bit disappointed when he pulled away and laid back down. He turned on his side and looked down at Sherlock. "No good?" He hoped it was just the hangover, but maybe his master was ruined for anything other than rough sex.

Sherlock sighed and shrugged. “It isn't that...I...” How was he supposed to explain he had been thinking about Victor? It would most likely piss John off. His slave didn't like his ex at all. He didn't want to ruin the chance of fucking after eating, so it would be best not to say anything. “...It's nothing...” He got out of the bed and realized at some point he had lost his towel from the shower and he was naked. He didn't really care, merely a bit chilled from the air on his exposed skin. “I'll...um...order that pizza and get dressed.”

John frowned with worry when Sherlock didn't just say that it was hangover. Which probably meant it had something to do with Victor. Or just something to do with him, he realized with a pit in his stomach. He wanted to protest when Sherlock said it was nothing. "Really nothing? Or 'I'm going to get drunk' nothing?" He wanted to remind Sherlock that had only been a few hours ago. He wasn't going to have a good track record with nothing at this rate. He sat up and turned towards his master, allowing him to look over his naked body with a small grin. He still saw it just living with Sherlock, but he could appreciate it now.

Sherlock smirked despite himself but it faded as he sighed. "If I told you, it would just upset you. And you probably wouldn't believe me anyway." He sighed again and got dressed slowly. He didn't know how to explain things to John. It was all stupid anyway. All useless sentiment. He searched around a bit until he found his mobile but didn't make the call yet.

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" John asked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He wanted to snatch Sherlock's mobile from his hand and make him say what he was on his mind, but he would probably drop it after this. If his master really didn't want to tell him there was nothing he could do, but after that he felt Sherlock _did_ want to tell him. He was just worried about his reaction for some reason.

Sherlock sighed again and dropped his head. "I like you, okay? And not just as friend. One of the reasons I got with Victor was try and make that stop. It didn't and just now I was comparing you to him and you won every time. There. You know. Happy?" He was tired of not telling John and just trying to ignore the infernal feelings. It hadn't worked out well, considering he had just got drunk over them.

John stared at Sherlock like he had grown a third head. But then stopped because he didn't want his master to get the wrong idea. It was only the thought of Sherlock's breath that stopped him from crossing the room and throwing him back onto the bed, but he knew that wouldn't go well in practice. Probably. Instead he shifted on the bed and cough awkwardly. "Happy yeah. Me too."

Sherlock thought for a moment John was going to laugh at him but then his slave finally said something. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Really?" Then it hit him and he felt even more like an idiot. The reason John had been so worried about him and the hatred towards Victor. How had he not seen it before? "That's great..." He didn't care he tasted disgusting he moved forward to kiss John on the lips once more.

"Yeah really," John said as if Sherlock was an idiot. He had always assumed it would be obvious to his master, but hoped that he would just get lucky and Sherlock would never figure it out. Apparently he had gotten lucky, and his master was actually clueless. Sherlock moved forward and he cupped his face to kiss him (briefly.) He kissed along Sherlock's jaw and moved his hands up to run them through Sherlock's hair. He had always liked touching his master's hair. "You still have to brush your teeth."

Sherlock closed his eyes and tilted his head so his slave could kiss him without their lips meeting. He just wanted to enjoy the moment with John. He wrapped his arms around his slave, so he could pull John closer to him. His fingers trailed along his slave's back lightly. He finally pulled away and hurried to the bathroom to brush his teeth. They could eat after fucking. He returned to John after brushing and even gargling mouth wash.

John kissed Sherlock's neck, enjoying his master's touches and just having him close. He was thinking about how many love bites he could give Sherlock before he pulled away. He was about to ask what he was doing when he heard the sound of water running and furious scrubbing as his master quickly brushed his teeth. He laughed and pulled himself back onto the bed and against the headboard. When Sherlock came back he reached for his hand and pulled him so he was straddling John again. He put his hands on his master's hips and kissed him. He quickly delved into Sherlock's mouth like he hadn't been able to in months, smiling at the taste of mint. "I love you."

Sherlock smiled as he came to settle on top of John and returned the kiss eagerly. He pressed down into the man below with a small moan. The proclamation of love made him pause. They were just words, but he had trouble returning the sentiment. "I...feel the same...Just saying it might take longer," he admitted. Hopefully he hadn't ruined the moment. He was great at many things but anything dealing with emotions was not one of them.

John pushed up against Sherlock and groaned at the feeling. Perhaps he should have gotten undressed before he pulled himself onto the bed. He didn't think this was going to last very long if his master was as desperate for this as he was. He hardly faltered when Sherlock said he couldn't say it back. The fact that he had said anything at all was more than he had ever expected. He was surprised his master wasted time on emotions at all figuring he had already said he would sleep with him. "I believe you."

Sherlock smiled, grateful John was being understanding of his inability to commit at the moment. He leaned down and kissed his slave...boyfriend now? on the lips once more. He rubbed his growing erection on John's trousers, moaning from the wonderful feeling of the friction on his sensitive skin. He had missed this kind of contact with John and even though he was eager, he wanted to be able to savor the moment.

John smiled back and pushed into Sherlock in every way he could. At this rate he was going to fucking come in his pants. Like hell he was letting that happened. He grabbed Sherlock's side and flipped them so Sherlock was laying on his back with him between his legs on his knees. He bent down and kissed his master roughly, his hands moving to start undoing the buttons on Sherlock's first. "This feel familiar?" He asked with a smirk as he made quick work of Sherlock's buttons. He rubbed his hands over the newly exposed skin.

Sherlock hadn't been expecting that, but he always did like when John took control. He was more than happy to give it up. He smirked back up at his slave. Should he even think of John as a slave anymore, with the way things were heading? Well, he supposed he had never thought of John as slave period but he could think about that later. John was on top of him and that was far more interesting than his distracting thoughts. He closed his eyes when he felt the hand on chest and concentrated on that, so he could stop thinking for a little bit and just enjoy the moment with John.

John pulled Sherlock's shirt off of his shoulders for him. He leaned down and kissed his master's neck while his thumbs expertly rubbed Sherlock's nipples and down to his stomach. He was getting to thin again, he thought, but pushed it away so he could instead focus on rubbing the skin right above his master's waist line. He sucked another bruise into Sherlock's neck and kissed him once on the lip before sitting up. He started to undo his shirt and looked down at his master with a large grin on his face. He was too ecstatic and honestly turned on now to focus on any of the technicalities of what had happened. He wasn't thinking about it and probably wouldn't until they were brought to his attention. Right now his only thoughts were Sherlock.

Sherlock writhed up into John's touch with a moan. He found all the touches and kissing to be wonderful and wanted more. He opened his eyes and smiled up at John, arms coming to wrap around the other's waist, fingers trailing along the skin once the shirt was removed. "What would you like of me today Sir?" He managed not to smirk, though it was clear he wanted to by the look in his eyes.

John froze for a moment when he heard Sherlock call him sir. Did they need to do that now? They had never stopped playing that game during sex when they were together last time. But if they were going to be together like this they didn't need to every time. He shrugged off his shirt, tilting his head back and showing how much he was enjoying his master's small touches. He put his hands behind Sherlock's head and back to hold him up, meeting him halfway so John could kiss and nip at his neck. "John is fine." He kissed below his master's ears before coming back and taking his mouth again. He pushed down so their crotches pushed together, hoping Sherlock didn't say anything about it.

Sherlock frowned when John stopped, wondering if he had said the wrong thing. He had just assumed that the role reversal was in play since he was on the bottom and John was giving him all sorts of attention. He gave a hum of appreciation from the lips on his neck, eyes closing briefly. “John it is then.” He returned the kiss, once their lips met again, moaning into it when he felt John pressing down him. God, he couldn't wait until one them started fucking the other. He really didn't care who gave or received at the moment.

"Thanks," John muttered into Sherlock's mouth. He pushed his master's hair back and held his neck so he could continue to kiss him deeply. He could feel Sherlock's need pressed against his. He moaned, broke away from his master's mouth, and laid him back down onto the bed. He moved so he was in between Sherlock's legs and quickly undid his own trousers. He shucked them and his pants off, throwing them onto the floor. He undid Sherlock's trousers and pulled them down to his thigh. He looked own at his master's obvious erection before looking up at Sherlock's eyes. He palmed Sherlock's cock teasingly through his pants. "What do you want?"

Everything was happening so fast, blessedly fast. Sherlock was quite enjoying everything John was doing and he did his best to keep up, but really he was just following and complying with the movements. He couldn't help but whimper when John palmed his erection and he lifted his hips into the touch. That was a loaded question he felt. He wanted so many things right now. Part of him just wanted to beg and plead with John to do as he pleased and the other part of him wanted pound into John so hard he fucked both of them into next week. Then again, he did quite like being dominated more than anything. “Shag me,” he finally answered.

John smiled when Sherlock whimpered, pressing his hand against his master's hard cock again. "Anything for you." He got up and grabbed the lube from the drawer. "Take your pants off." He had to dig through the drawer to find it. It had been a while and Sherlock had a bad habit of throwing things where it was convenient. He found it and snapped it open, pouring some onto his fingers. He walked back and climbed into the bed between his master's legs, rubbing the lube in between his fingers to warm it up. He reached and pushed Sherlock's legs farther apart. "You do like having a cock in your arse. Or maybe you just like being a lazy fuck."

Sherlock stripped himself of the pants, discarding them carelessly on the floor. He watched John with a bit of a smirk. “Both. I get to lay here while you do all the work and enjoy it while you do.” The smirk got bigger as he kept his gaze on John. He had always enjoyed watching his slave, even during their childhood. It was different now of course, he realized. There was much to recognize about the man on him, he reasoned. Physical beauty wasn't something that really registered for him but as he stared up at John he thought maybe he could at least start appreciating.

John rolled his eyes but still tenderly rubbed the rim of Sherlock's tight hole before pushing a finger in. He put a hand on his master's hip and rubbed his thumb in circles as he pushed his finger all the way in. "You always like to watch me work." He didn't bother to put on a sarcastic look to go with the phrase. Sherlock liked to watch him around the house or room even just doing chores, but he hoped this was a different sort of like. He pushed his finger in only a few times before adding a second, knowing how his master liked the small burn that came with the stretch.

Sherlock let out a moan the moment he felt John's finger enter, eyes closing a moment. He cracked one open to smirk up at John. He was about to make a comeback but John was prepping him in the most wonderful way. He always had trouble staying still, and his body writhed a bit as his hands became tangled in the sheets below and his knuckles turned white. John always seemed to know exactly what he liked. Every touch. Just the right amount of pressure. He wasn't sure if it was because John was just used to that kind of detail to making his master happy or if John actually just took that much time to care.

John worked Sherlock open quickly, adding a third and fourth finger after almost no time. He would take his time, but he knew his mater would get impatient and would enjoy the stretch when he entered him. And just because he had been taking a break didn't mean Sherlock had been been. He pulled his fingers out and put an arm on either side of his master to lean down and kiss him. "You're so attractive when you're speechless." He smirked kissing Sherlock deeply again to silence him and pulled back up. He grabbed his master's hips and pulled him up. He lined up his cock and rubbed the head against Sherlock's entrance, just pushing in slightly.

Sherlock moaned a couple more times as John slipped in more fingers. He returned the kiss with a small snort but didn't comment otherwise. Fucking tease. He looked up at John with a slight smirk and managed not to not thrust into the probing cock, even though he wanted to badly. Instead he settled for wrapping his legs around John, to give a slightly better angle. Rough and fast was all he really knew and he wondered if things were different now. Not just fucking just to get off as quickly as possible. He reached up a hand to run along John's cheek lightly, curiously.

John groaned as he pushed into Sherlock, closing his eyes and relishing in the feeling of being in his master and making Sherlock his. He opened his eyes and blinked when he felt Sherlock run his hand across his cheek. He hadn't expected such a tender touch from his master, who usually didn't do much that didn't involve getting off as quickly as possible. He felt a small feeling in his throat and reached down to push Sherlock's hair back. He pushed the rest of the way and moaned. "Oh fuck, Sherlock." John rolled his hips without giving his master much time to adjust. "Fuck, I love you."

Shit. Had he done the wrong thing? Sherlock almost pulled his hand away but then he felt John push in all the way and he let out long moan, eyes closing for a moment. He smiled at the second profession of love. God , why couldn't he just say it back? They were only three words. He settled for just keeping his hand on John's cheek, fingers trailing lightly for time to time. He wasn't sure why things felt different now, but it did. Was it because he was allowing emotional attachment get in the way finally?

John didn't show any disappointment at Sherlock not saying it back. He knew it would probably take time, if it ever came at all. But the tender touches and the promise he only wanted was more than enough for now. He continued to roll his hips, thrusting slowly into his master and drawing everything out. He kept one hand on Sherlock's hip to keep him steady and used the other to caress his mater's side and chest. His hand eventually drifted to Sherlock's cock which he stroked once lightly as he bucked into his master.

Sherlock wasn't used to slow thrusts, but he still found them enjoyable. Every touch from John was feeling quite fantastic. His eyes closed once more, as he felt the hand on his cock. “John,” he murmured. He couldn't help but move up into the touch. Hopefully it wouldn't throw off John's rhythm too much and he forced himself still once more. This was more than just fucking now, wasn't it? More...intimate? He had never thought he would like it, but he was at the moment.

John hummed and began to stroke Sherlock more steadily. He kept them slow, in time with his long thrusts, wondering if he could bring his master off like this. He could feel his climax slowly building and part of him wanted to quickly thrust into Sherlock until he roughly came. But the intimacy and slow pace of the moment was something Sherlock had never wanted or even allowed before now, and he didn't want to ruin it. He stared up his master's chest and groaned at the look on Sherlock's face. "Fuck, Sherlock." He picked up his pace just a bit. He focused more on his master's cock, rubbing at the slit and tightening his grip to bring Sherlock closer to orgasm.

Sherlock didn't know what sensation to focus on the most, John inside of him or the hand on his cock doing amazing things. Both were incredibly wonderful feeling at the moment. It was a wonder he hadn't come yet, but he didn't want everything to end too soon. John seemed to be okay with slow pace as well, so he forced himself to try and move in time with the thrusts inside of him. The hand on John's face began to trail down slowly, to the neck and shoulder.

John bit his lip and groaned at resisting the temptation to finish quickly. He loved having Sherlock around him and touching him. He wanted his master's mind to be focused solely on him, just for a time. And hopefully not on anyone else. Now that he knew Sherlock wanted him, it filled him with rage to think that anyone else had been with him at all. He picked up his pace a bit more and rolled his hips into Sherlock desperately. He worked his master's balls before stroking his cock again, rubbing his side as he pushed him off the bed with every thrust.

“Jesus John,” he muttered. Sherlock had not been ready for the change in pace or speed. Maybe John hadn't been enjoying the slow and steady thrusts like he thought. His hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into the sheets so he could try and stay in place a bit better. It still felt good, wonderful really but he had been caught a bit unprepared was all and it took him a moment to catch up. It made it harder to maintain control and he came with a long moan. He had meant to try and last longer but he hadn't been able to. 

John smiled at Sherlock's break in the silence as he continued to work to bring both of them to climax. He stroked his master's cock and was also caught by surprise when Sherlock came suddenly into his hand, shooting streaks of come onto his own stomach. "Yes, Sherlock." He stroked Sherlock through his orgasm and then leaned over to kiss him. "You're so fucking wonderful." He pushed into Sherlock roughly just a few more times until he came, gasping Sherlock's name and panting.

“Sorry,” he murmured. Sherlock didn't really apologize for much of anything but he had reached orgasm a little sooner than he would have liked. He was still young and should have better stamina. No need to worry about that now. The thrusts were rough and glorious and taking things slow and steady didn't matter anymore. He reached up a hand to run through John's hair. “Good...that was good...” He smirked a bit, eyes closing to take in the moment a little longer.

John pulled out of Sherlock and rolled down beside him. "Yes." He waspanting from the effort. He turned and grabbed his master's face to pull him into a bruising kiss. He was satisfied in one way, but in another thought he would never get enough of Sherlock. He wanted to take all he could, everything he never thought he would be able to take figuring his place in the world. He pulled away and kissed his master's forehead, keeping his him close. "Why are you sorry?"

Sherlock returned the kiss eagerly but shrugged at question after it had ended. “Wanted to make it last longer,” he admitted after awhile. He shifted a bit, so his head could come to rest on John's shoulder. He had always enjoyed being close to his slave. Could he even consider John that anymore? It seemed...wrong to think of him as such now. “Are we boyfriends now...?” He wondered out loud, knowing his parents were going to hate John even more now. “I am going to try and find away to make you free. I can't just give up ownership, you would simply get sold off to someone else and that's no good. So many stupid laws in place,” he muttered with a slight pout.

John chuckled and wanted to tell Sherlock it was more than fine, but instead just laid another kiss on his forehead. Good enough. He had closed his eyes and settled down comfortably with his arms around Sherlock when his master started to speak. "Boyfriends? I suppose." He tried to imagine Sherlock introducing him as that. His master kept talking and he just felt more confused and also a elated. He had never dared hoped for anything like freedom in a long time. He knew he was saddled with Sherlock for life and there wasn't much of a way for a personal slave to 'earn' freedom. The only way to get freedom was through great deeds done for your country. "Do you think you'll be able too?" John asked. More than never expecting his freedom, he had never expected Sherlock to be the one to trying to liberate him.


	22. Chapter 22

Sherlock sighed and shrugged again. "I don't know. I would have to get more acquainted with laws about slaves and ways freedom can be obtained. Maybe I can find a loophole somewhere and exploit it." He didn't really need a slave anyway. Sure he'd had one for almost ten years now, but now.... He sighed at his thoughts and shifted so he could bury his face a bit more into John's shoulder.

John nodded and tried to think it over. What would he even do with his freedom? Part of him still dreamed of joining the army, as a free man or a slave. It was one of the best ways to earn freedom if one managed to survive. But that would mean leaving his master, possibly for years. "Thank you, Sherlock." John wondered if his master would even understood what this really meant for him. He knew if there was a loophole, Sherlock would find it. He didn't believe there would be one, but the thought was nice enough.

Sherlock smiled a bit. "Of course. Maybe I can't express how I feel in words...but maybe I can do it by showing you in other ways." It all seemed terribly sentimental to him but he was trying. It had just been easier to shut out emotions before but for John he might allow it, although he doubted he would be any good at it. He lifted his head and turned so he could give John a quick kiss on the lips.

John returned the kiss eagerly and wondered if Sherlock would want to go again after they ate. Probably. They could both be insatiable when the mood struck. "Still hungry?" He asked against his lover's lips. He was still overwhelmed by his master's declaration of sorts and figured a shower and a meal would help him sort things out in his own head. He couldn't imagine how Sherlock felt about it. He was probably ashamed to be so sentimental.

Sherlock had forgotten all about eating, not that it was really uncommon for him. He just wanted to lay in bed and think the rest of the day but he should probably eat. It had been awhile...hadn't it? He couldn't remember really. "Sure," he finally mumbled. Though he wasn't really. There was so much to do. All sorts of research. He thought about asking for Mycroft help, because as much as he hated to admit it his older brother was just a little more clever than he was. He risked his parents finding out though, and he rather avoid that and the conversation he knew he would be forced to participate in. He sighed, wishing he hadn't smoked all his cigarettes earlier. He certainly needed one at the moment.

John rolled his eyes but still smiled as he realized Sherlock had forgotten all about getting take out. "You're running on empty remember?" He patted his master's impossibly small stomach. He probably needed to eat just to avoid eroding or whatever stomach acid would do on its own. "You don't even have to get dressed. We can eat in bed and when we're done I'll ride your cock while you continue to be a lazy fuck." He wanted to enjoy being with Sherlock as much as possible. His master would eventually have to go back to class and see Victor. And he knew Sherlock's parents would probably try to get him deported if they knew what his master was planning.

Was he? John would probably know better than he would. Oh right. Sherlock had already deleted getting drunk and throwing up. They weren't memories he would ever need. John was insatiable at times but he supposed he was too and there was no real need to complain about that. He stayed in the bed, not wanting to move. At least he had the day to sort things out since he wouldn't be going to class. After eating and likely fucking John, he would get on his laptop to do some research.

Sherlock didn't answer and John took that to mean he was okay with it. Or maybe he wasn't planning on eating and didn't want to argue about it right this second. Either way he was famished. He got up and ran his hand over his master's arse just because he could now. He put on some pajama pants and picked up Sherlock's mobile to make the order. "You want anything in particular?" He asked, dialing the number. If he didn't answer he would just get Sherlock whatever he got. His master was so dispassionate about food sometimes, he thought he lacked taste buds.

His eyes closed a moment in contentment when he felt John's hand on him. How was it a single touch was far more comforting than his own thoughts? It didn't make any sense. It was one of the reasons he hated emotions. They were so irrational. Sherlock waved a dismissive hand at the question, as he was fine with whatever John decided to order for him. He still didn't want to get out of bed, it was comfortable, but he did sit up so his head and back were against the head rest. He was still trying to figure out if it would even possible to make John free. There had to be a law, clause, loophole or something  _ somewhere. _

John shrugged and ordered more than enough food for them as was the norm. It gave him something to eat without having to cook while Sherlock went back on his never ending fasting diet. He hung up and looked back at his master who was obviously in some sort of deep thought. Was he really thinking of how to get him freed? He would probably start memorizing law books tomorrow if he was that serious. He stretched and sat on the bed beside Sherlock, laying his head on his shoulder while he thought.

Sherlock snuggled a little closer to John when he felt the head on his shoulder. He quite liked being close and in constant contact with John. He wrapped and an arm around the other, so they could be a bit closer still. “John Watson, what have you done to me.” He was still trying to figure it out himself. He had never thought he would like things like this or even every be able to feel the way he did. He couldn't even admit it to himself apparently, no wonder he couldn't even say it to John. He sighed. Maybe someday when he became more comfortable with the idea of sentiment.

John didn't move as Sherlock wrapped around him except to scoot a little closer. The first time they were together or whatever they had been, he would still get a bit of a kick about how much of a cuddler his master turned out to be. Now he just kind of accepted it as something Sherlock probably needed. He raised an eyebrow at the question, unsure of how to respond. He decided on a small laugh and a shrug.

Sherlock shrugged as well, eyes closing as he let out a slow sigh. “Do ordinary people also have such trouble with...emotions? They make absolutely no sense. I don't...” Another sigh, this time out of frustration, “...I don't know what to do with them. They annoy me and distract me from thinking. I've tried everything I can think of to make them nonexistent but as you can see it didn't work at all.” It was stupid he figured and Mycroft would most certainly mock him for it. Caring wasn't an advantage. Love was just a human error, one he found impossible to overcome.

John laid particularly still on the bed as Sherlock spoke. Part of him felt a bit annoyed that his master found his feelings for him to be so inconvenient or whatever he thought of them. It wasn't like either of them had a choice in the matter, but at least Sherlock had the power to act on them when he wanted. He supposed he would have that too if Sherlock did manage to free him. He sighed and resisted the urge to shrug. "We all make due. You have me, you've always had me, so you shouldn't have to worry about anything."

“I suppose so.” Sherlock just wanted to understand. Everything he knew was based on science and facts. Why couldn't emotions be applied to that as well? It was a bit maddening for him. Maybe he was just over thinking everything. He just wouldn't think on it for awhile, perhaps that would work and he could get it all sorted in his brain. He shifted and rolled slightly so he could bury his face in John's shoulder. Being close to John had always managed to calm his screaming thoughts and he hoped now would be no exception.

John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair a few times. He sighed and switched to rubbing his mater's neck. He strained his ears to listen for the doorbell, but didn't hear anything yet. He was starving, and he was suddenly feeling uncomfortable with Sherlock seeking comfort like this. What would he do if he decided he wasn't worth whatever he was feeling at the moment? "Whatever your feeling is probably normal."

Sherlock frowned a bit. John seemed...tense? Had he done or said something wrong already? Probably. He was always saying thoughtless things without really realizing it. He reviewed what he had said mentally but couldn't come up with anything he had said as being rude. He finally lifted his head to look at John. “Did I get something wrong again? You seem...upset...” The tension he felt in John's body language was subtle but still noticeable by him. John probably didn't even realize he was doing it.

John shook his head, perhaps too quickly. He was sure Sherlock would decide since he was already analyzing his body language. "It's nothing." He didn't see the need to overload his master with sentiment in one day. And his worries were probably completely unwarranted. "This is new to both of us. Everyone is bound to have doubts." He glanced away from Sherlock for just a second without meaning too. He kissed his master chastely simply because he was there and it would probably help.

The frown returned, deeper this time. “Doubts?” Sherlock echoed, clearly confused. “I don't understand. Are you having doubts already? Is it because I'm emotionally impaired?” Maybe John was right. He certainly wasn't cut out for any sort of relationship but he had wanted to try. Was John having second thoughts so soon? He went through the conversation a third time just to make sure he hadn't said something to cast doubt but all he had done was question emotions. So much for not over thinking everything right away.

"No," John said, definitely too quickly this time. How had this happened? Sherlock was the one who was supposed to have problems with this. They weren't going to make this about him. "I've always known you're emotionally impaired." He briefly wondered if that was the right things to say. It was definitely true. Sherlock had always had trouble expressing himself no matter what he was feeling. That's why he wasn't getting hung up on 'I love you's.

Sherlock was getting frustrated. He rolled away from John with a childish huff and got off the bed. This was turning out to be quite the mistake already, wasn't it? Jesus. He had to be some sort of idiot to think he could ever make something work. Here he was honestly trying but it felt like it was getting him absolutely nowhere. Cigarettes. He needed one desperately and he began getting dressed hastily. “Just gonna pop out for bit I think.”

"Sherlock," John groaned when his master pulled away from him. This was his fault wasn't it? Sherlock was having trouble over his own emotions, and he probably wasn't doing much to help. Instead he had let Sherlock think he didn't want this or whatever he thought. "I don't doubt you." He watched his master get dressed. He wanted to pull him back into the bed and snog him senseless until he gave in. Instead Sherlock was going out for cigarettes (nothing else he could be doing really).

Sherlock paused buttoning up his shirt and looked over at John. “Well, if you aren't then I am. I don't know if I'll be any good for you John. I'm rubbish at this sort of thing.” What had he been thinking even saying anything in the first place? For a genius he sure was an idiot sometimes. He resumed dressing because at this rate he was going to need more than just a single cigarette to calm him down. He could just destroy everything and go see Victor. No. He wasn't going to go back to that bastard.

John stood up and walked in front of Sherlock. Before he could say anything he cupped his master's face with both of his hands and kissed him roughly. "I've wanted you for years you bloody idiot." He couldn't believe he was admitting it but he couldn't have Sherlock leaving thinking he was going to have to end this. "If you were that rubbish I would have gotten over it." The doorbell rang and he sighed. He walked away to grab his master's wallet off of the dresser and rifled though it to find some cash.

Sherlock hadn't expected the kiss but he did return it. God, how could he had even thought about Victor at all? Stupid and selfish, just like usual. He was about to finally reply but the bell rang. He sighed and sat down on the bed. He was certain John deserved someone better than him. He wasn't sure he would every be emotionally available enough to be a proper boyfriend. He was always so confident and arrogant about everything and now he felt pretty damned useless. What in God's name did John see in him?

John found some cash and left to get the food. Sherlock was either thinking things over and deciding this was worth it, or he was recognizing his stupid sentiment and being disgusted that he had allowed himself to be tainted by it. He gave the delivery man a large tip and took the food back upstairs. He dropped it on the bed and managed to smile at Sherlock. "You can eat before you pop out right?" He pulled some of the cartons out of the bag. "Those cigarettes kill your appetite, not that there's much to kill."

Sherlock wasn't feeling hungry at all but eating would make John happy. He didn't understand the emotions really but he understood the basic premise of a relationship and it seemed part of being in one was making the partner happy. “Yeah, sure.” He probably should quit smoking but he had been getting so stressed lately it was unlikely he would be able to anytime soon. Besides, he was studying tar and ash lately and finding tobacco quite interesting.

John sat on the bed and handed Sherlock one of the cartons of food. He pulled out some plastic forks from the bottom and opened his quickly. He practically groaned from the smell and dug in. If anything the food was a nice distraction from anything else that was going on. They probably needed to talk. He still didn't know what was really bugging Sherlock, and he was still worried that whatever that was would make Sherlock end this or worse sell him. He looked up at Sherlock and tried to read him quickly like his master was always able to do so easily to him.

Sherlock just stared at the food in front of him without eating. “I'm trying you know,” he muttered as he picked at the food. He cleared his throat. “Before you were bought for me, I had a dog. Redbeard. I loved that dog but he had to be put down. It was the only friend I'd ever had, until you of course.” God this was stupid. He was making it sound like he was comparing John to the the dog when all he was really trying to do was explain but failing. “Getting attached means getting let down, in some way or other again. Whether it doesn't work out or they die. So...I just closed myself off. Its not that I'm incapable of sentiment...I just choose to ignore it...” He trailed off with sigh. He was getting frustrated again and he had to resit the urge to throw his food across the room.

John looked up from his food when Sherlock spoke, frowning when he saw his master's hadn't been touched at all. He had never heard about Redbeard before from anyone. Not in passing or by another slave. He swallowed and forced himself not to look away from Sherlock. It was odd to see him so emotional, even if he was obviously trying to keep most of it concealed. "I don't plan on leaving you or dying soon. I can't leave you. What's the issue really?" He knew he wasn't being kind but he had to ask and figure this out. "Is it not worth the risk then?"

“The issue is me I guess. I'm just trying to sort everything out. Not understanding things drives me insane. And I never said you weren't the risk.” Sherlock shook his head and decided to give up on talking. It wasn't working and he just felt like an idiot even more with every word. He shoved the food in his mouth and chewed with more force than was needed and just stared at his lap rather than even attempt to look at John.

John wanted to sigh in relief, but he knew whatever was wrong with Sherlock was still not close to being resolved. What was there to understand? They both wanted to be together and were. He loved Sherlock unconditionally at this point, and his master had to feel something great for him or he wouldn't be doing this. Couldn't he just let things be simple? "Maybe its not as complicated as you think."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. “Maybe,” he relented. He did have a tendency to over analyze things and he had come to the conclusion he was over thinking it before so that was most likely the case at this point. “Sorry if I ruined the moment or whatever people call it these days.” He was finally calming down at least and chewing the food normally. He glanced over to John, hoping the other didn't think him a total idiot because that was exactly how he felt.

John was happy that Sherlock was at least considering something he had said. He shrugged at his master's second comment and ate his food. "You need to talk. I really shouldn't be discouraging that." It was as close to an apology as he felt he needed to make. He had perhaps been a bit too optimistic earlier. Sherlock was emotionally constipated and he wasn't perfect either. He smiled when Sherlock glanced his way.

Sherlock shrugged. "Think I said what I wanted to, or at least tried to." He gave a faint smirk. Now he just struggled to understand the emotions. They couldn't be categorized in a neat box and stored away for later like everything else. He continued to eat, not realizing just how hungry he really had been until he had put food in his mouth. Would John expect him to do relationship things now? Boring things like go to a show and all that?

Sherlock was eating so John took that to mean that he was feeling better. Or at least not getting hung up on things that could wait until later. He pushed himself onto the bed and leaned back against Sherlock's side, his knees pulled up as he continued to eat. He had things to ask his master. He could ask what he planned to do about Victor or when/if he was going to deal with Sherlock's parents who would probably do almost anything to make sure Sherlock didn't free John. "Did you think of any possible way to y'know- make me free?"

Sherlock leaned back into John the moment he was leaned into. He frowned at the question and then shook his head. “No, not yet. I will need to do some research I think. I'm not very familiar with laws involving slaves. Never had a reason to until now, so I had never bothered looking into it before. When I find something I will let you know.” He hoped he would find what he was looking for but he wasn't that optimistic about it. No need to tell that to John though.

"Ah," John said, picking at his food. He was getting full and while Sherlock had rested earlier, he certainly hadn't. Not that he prepared to go to bed too quickly. He still hoped despite Sherlock's worry or whatever he was going though he still wanted to get off. "You think Mycroft might know something? He's in politics, knows about laws and stuff." Or at least that's what he thought Mycroft did. Something with the government in any case.

“We aren't asking Mycroft! He would want to know why and it isn't any of his damn business!” His older brother wouldn't understand and most likely tell their parents. Sherlock hadn't meant to sound so angry but he couldn't help it. Just the thought of talking to Mycroft about it made him upset. They weren't close anymore anyway. His brother just cared about his stupid career path and he was still quite bitter about the whole thing.

John jumped away from Sherlock and then moved to sit next to him. He knew the two of them hadn't been talking lately, but Mycroft seemed to be the one thing Sherlock wouldn't rant about. He just refused to talk about him, so he wasn't sure if he was a safe subject or not. "Alright, alright. It was just an idea." He put the small bit of leftovers on the nightstand. "I'm sure you can figure it out on your own. You'd just hack into his files if you thought he knew something you didn't. If nothing else there's the Army."

Sherlock sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered. He shouldn't have yelled at John but he just didn't like the thought of asking Mycroft. He smirked a bit. “Yes, I would.” The smirk quickly turned into a frown. “The Army? What? No, you aren't doing that. Don't be ridiculous.” There were too many things that could go wrong in the military. Mostly that John could die and he couldn't even begin to contemplate that happening so soon.

"Of course not, just joking." John had really just confirmed what he already had guessed. He would probably spend the rest of his life as Sherlock's slave before he was allowed to go into the Army. "There's just not many ways for a slave to gain freedom that's all. But I'm sure you'll find a loophole. You can't be the first rich arse to want to free one of his slaves."

Sherlock nodded, appeased. He should probably eat more but he could do it later. He got up from the bed and moved to the sitting room where his laptop was located. He picked it up and sat down in his chair. He logged in and went straight onto the Internet to do some research. If there had been a precedent of an owner freeing a slave, he would be able to use that. He hadn't heard of anything like that but it couldn't hurt to look.

John smiled at Sherlock's nod. He stood up from the bed and stretched and began to clean up without a word. He put the lids back on the containers of food and packed everything up in the bag so he could take it downstairs and put it away for himself later. The discarded clothes were picked up and put in the hamper. He would have to wash them with the sheets the next day he supposed. "You want anything while I'm downstairs?"

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand, staring intently at the screen in front of him. “Not now John. I'm busy.” He hadn't really heard the question but it probably wasn't important. Well, at least not as important as what he was doing right now. And if it was John would probably ask him later in a more irritated tone. He read through legal documents, court cases and other mundane things quite quickly. Though the sheer numbers had him there for hours, finger on the mouse and scrolling down as he tried to find a pertinent article.

John rolled his eyes and shrugged before going down the steps. Sherlock would hopefully do whatever he was doing online before he passed out from dehydration and tell him to go downstairs and get him a drink. Inevitable really. He thought that perhaps Sherlock really was looking up ways to free him. Not much else he could be doing. No case to look into as far as he knew (not that he was able to help either way) and Sherlock never looked at school work so intently. He got himself a pop and drank it down before grabbing a glass of water. Maybe Sherlock would drink it absentmindedly if he just put it beside him. That worked usually.

Sherlock sighed as he read, one hand constantly scrolling while the other would periodically reach over for the glass of water that had appeared rather suddenly at some point. Probably John had put it there. It wasn't important though. Finding a way to free John was. He was getting frustrated as he found nothing, despite his long and grueling search. He wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but the sun was beginning to rise. He blinked, and wondered if John had gone to bed at some point. Despite staying up all night, he wasn't really tired. He did put the laptop down, when it became obvious he wasn't going to find what he was looking for. He stayed in the chair, feeling rather defeated.

John set the water down beside Sherlock and didn't bother talking to him. His master was obviously very dedicated to whatever he was doing, and he knew better than to try and get him out of one of these moods. He would probably work himself through the night and be irritable when he had to go to class the next morning. Or he would skip and stay with him again. That wasn't a bad idea. He messed around on his own laptop for a bit before giving Sherlock a goodnight and falling asleep easily. He woke up the next morning and rolled over to see Sherlock sitting just like he had been when he had fallen asleep. "Find what you were looking for?" John asked, noticing the laptop was put away.

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and focused his gaze on John. The glass was now empty and in his frustration, he threw it against the wall. Even in his anger, he made sure to throw it against a wall that John wasn't standing near. “No,” he growled out. It was idiotic. All the laws that kept 'slaves in their place' were infuriating and a ridiculous number of them as well. “I...don't think there is a way to make you free. Other than if you did something exemplary in the military and I won't let you join!”

John watched with dull acceptance as Sherlock threw the glass against the wall. He would be getting that later he supposed. Maybe he would teach his master how to use a broom if he ever was free. He sat across from Sherlock and waited for him to explain his 'no.' He could feel his stomach drop when Sherlock explained. He had told himself he wasn't very caught up in being free, but now that the idea was there he had no choice but to be disappointed. "Why not?" He asked, despite the fact he could name numerous reasons and he was sure Sherlock would have more.

“Don't ask stupid questions John.” Shouldn't it be obvious why he didn't want John to join the military? Sherlock frowned and he shrugged. “Any number of things could wrong, for starters. It just isn't worth the risk.” He still couldn't say it. Hopefully John would understand and wouldn't make him spell it out. He wanted to forbid John from ever doing it...but wasn't the point so John could be free? So John could make his own decisions and not be a slave anymore? He was going to need more scotch and cigarettes, wasn't he?

John rolled his eyes. Maybe the question was stupid, but he had wanted to ask. He went over the idea of going into the military. He hadn't thought of it since he was young, but it had always been apart of his plan right? He assumed Sherlock would get bored of him as all slave owners tended to do, and then he would elect to go into the military once being put on the market. But he hadn't considered how...compatible him and Sherlock had turned out to be. And he knew his master was worried about losing that. That was the risk. "But nothing could go wrong and I could be free."

“ _Nothing_ could go wrong? You are more of an idiot than I thought. Any number of things could wrong. And if that happened...” Sherlock trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish it. He had already thought of every possible scenario that would end horrid. Sometimes being a genius wasn't as great as he made it out to be. Definitely in need of more smokes and liquor. Or maybe he could distract himself with mindless schoolwork. He had skipped yesterday after all, but the thought of staying and arguing with John all day about the military was even less appealing.

"I didn't say nothing could go wrong," John said with a sigh. Sherlock's worry was obvious and the fact that he couldn't even get over the L word was becoming more ridiculous. "I just meant- I could come out okay. I could do my service and then-" He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Was it even worth fighting over? Sherlock would never allow it and right now he was in charge. Could they even be in a relationship like this? He would never be able to argue on anything important. Even right now he was sitting and dreading having to go over and pick up glass shards from the carpet. "Not everyone who enlists dies, Sherlock."

“Yes, in fairy tails everything turns out fine and everyone is happy. This is real life and actions have consequences.” Sherlock sighed. “I have to get ready for class.” He got up from his chair and went to the bathroom. He wasn't dressed, so he simply stepped into the shower when the water was hot enough. Was it him, or did he and John fight a lot more now that feelings had been admitted? Were all relationships so...difficult and hard to maintain? He rested his head against the wall, letting the water massage his tense muscles in his back.

John was about to speak up that most soldiers did make it out fine, but Sherlock had already ran off into the bathroom. He sighed and got up, hitting the arms of his chair angrily as he did. Maybe he could look up something to prove to Sherlock that this could work. That he would be fine in the Army and would be able to make it out alive. Alive and free. Sherlock was probably just upset that he might be able to do something for himself that Sherlock couldn't do for him. He began to pick up out a habit, with no loss of attitude.

Sherlock took a long shower, and only left when the water began losing its temperature. He hastily dried off, leaving the towel on the bathroom floor when he was done. He walked into the bedroom and began getting dressed for the day. “John, will you drive me this morning today? I don't have time to walk.” He could simply just order John of course but even as kids he had never really taken quite well to giving direct orders.

John looked up from the books he was trying to arrange when Sherlock walked into the room. "Of course." His anger had deflated a bit. He really couldn't refuse anyway even if wanted too. Which he didn't. Having the day away from Sherlock might be able to let him come up with a better reason for him to go into the Army. He went to the closet to pull him out some clothes for the day.

Sherlock nodded and gathered up his books and schoolwork. He didn't like backpacks, so he used a satchel instead. They held more and it let him distribute the weight on his body a bit better as well. He slung it over one shoulder and across his chest when he had the laptop put away as well. “Thank you. I'll be outside when you are ready.” He went out to the car and leaned against it. John would have the keys and it was usually locked so he didn't even bother trying to open it.

John got dressed and reached into his jacket pocket to make sure the keys were still there. He was horrible at losing them, but usually managed to remember before Sherlock needed to go anywhere. Finding things in a mess was easier after growing up as his master's slave. He ran down the steps and slipped his shoes on before running out to get in the car. "You're not going to be mad all day are you?" He asked, as he unlocked the car and moved to get in.

Sherlock shrugged and got in as well. “I don't know. I'll probably end up pissed at Victor, depending on how much I have to see of that prat today.” He sighed and glanced over at John. “I'm not mad at you...I just...don't like the thought of you going away to join the military. Maybe I'm just being selfish...” He trailed off with a frown. “I've had you in my life for almost ten years now John and it is difficult to imagine you not in it, even just temporarily.” He forced a smirk. “Who will pick up after me when the flat becomes a mess?”

"You could hire a housekeeper," John said with a smirk, not even humoring the idea that Sherlock might one day do it for himself. "An old lady housekeeper who can keep you in check too." He gave a small laugh, imagining some sort of matronly figure. He wasn't going to confirm or deny the idea of Sherlock being selfish. The fact that he was already considering it was going to work in his favor really. "It would just be temporary. I'm not going to run off with anyone else." He pulled out of the driveway and wondered if Sherlock would always get sentimental every time they fought. He wasn't going to lie, it was nice to hear he was needed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but smirked again. “You are the only idiot who will put up with me.” He had been mostly worried about John dying in some horrid fashion he hadn't even thought John might meet someone else, but now he had. How had he not considered that possibility? John could do so much better than him. Deserved better too really. He was just a selfish arse and not much else. He turned his attention to the passing scenery out the window, deciding to not comment on that topic at all.

John smiled again and chuckled. "The only one loony enough too more like it." The school wasn't far from the apartment and he was turning into the parking lot only a second later. "We can figure it out tonight?" He asked hopefully. He didn't want to leave Sherlock with no one to look after him, but honestly it might do him some good. And didn't he need to learn how to live as something other than Sherlock's slave? They would never really be equal even if he was freed at that rate.

Sherlock was disgusted with himself at how much he had been doubting himself lately. Had John said something? "What? Oh right. Sure." He got out of the car, adjusted the satchel and began walking to his first class. He was distracted most of the day, and ignored Victor completely when his ex tried to talk to him. One occasion had resulted with him trying to walk away only to be grabbed by the shoulder and punched in the eye. He wasn't in the mood for a fight and had simply kept going. When his final class ended he sent a text to John to pick him up.


	23. Chapter 23

John knew Sherlock hadn't heard him but he supposed it didn't matter. He was going to spring it all on him when he got home either way. Maybe spring wasn't the right word. He went back to the flat and did the laundry from the night before. He distracted himself with research and looked into how slaves could be freed. There was frustratingly little information on it. Just a small line of how soldier slaves who went up the ranks could be freed. This would take longer than he had anticipated. Not a plus for Sherlock. He wouldn't even get live like a regular soldier. He wasn't supposed to have a family to visit at all and he wouldn't belong to Sherlock anymore. He was already getting into the car when his master texted him, well aware of his schedule. He pulled up in front of the school and waited.

Sherlock was at the usual spot to be picked up. With any luck John wouldn't mention the black eye he had received earlier today. That wasn't likely to happen though, since John was far more emotional about things than he was. It wasn't really a big deal to him. He had received worse from Victor after all. Maybe if he brought up the military, they could avoid the topic of his bruised face. “I've been thinking about you joining the military a lot today. If...it is something you really want to do then that is fine. I'll have to fill out paper work relinquishing ownership over you to the government. I'll just tell my parents I got bored with you and sent you away.” He shrugged and kept his gaze on the window, unable to look at John at the moment.

John unlocked the door when he saw Sherlock walk up and focused right in on his black eye. He was going to kill that bastard. He gripped the steering wheel to keep himself from getting out of the car and tearing the school apart looking for Victor. Before he could say anything, Sherlock got in the car and started talking about the military. He sighed and pulled out of the school, listening as his master continually surprised him. "I'm sure they would love to hear that." He felt a weight lifted off his shoulders but another one had formed in his gut. Was he really going to be away from Sherlock? "I could stay for a bit longer. If you needed me too. You don't have to ship me of tomorrow."

Sherlock didn't have to be looking at John to know that his friend's posture had changed upon seeing the black eye. He would most likely hear about it later at the flat. “I would...like that,” he admitted. He wasn't sure he would be able to handle dealing with Victor alone. Not constructively at least. He would probably smoke and drink a lot more if John ended up leaving. Maybe a more potent drug would help better. He still stared out the window, even though he didn't find what was outside all that interesting.

"Okay," John said slowly, taking his eyes off the road to glance over at Sherlock. It was surprising to see the back of his head. Usually his master looked at people as often as possible. He was able to see more that way or at least observe. Maybe he just didn't want him to see the bruise. He had already thought of everything they had at home that might help heal that faster. Some ice and a salve for muscle aches. Maybe some pain killers if Sherlock had a headache. He pulled into the parking in front of the flat and got out without a word.

The moment the car came to stop, Sherlock got out. He walked into the flat, dropped his satchel next to his chair and then sat in it. He opened it and took out the syllabuses for his classes to see what work or reading would be required of him and then estimated the amount of time it would take and when the last possible moment would be when he would have to worry about doing it. Maybe if he pretended to be busy with schoolwork, John wouldn't talk about the black eye or the military.

John followed Sherlock in and locked the door behind him in case that bastard decided to show up here again. He grabbed his master's satchel and actually put it where it belonged before looking over at Sherlock. This was ridiculous. His master never focused on school work if he didn't have to. No way he was putting this much effort into a syllabus. He sat in his chair and leaned towards Sherlock. "You're trying to avoid talking to me." He tried not to sound too offended. He was though. They had just entered a relationship and now Sherlock was going to be more elusive than ever?

Sherlock let out a long, dramatic sigh before he looked up at John. “Because the only two topics you will want to talk about aren't something I care to discuss. All we have done lately is argue and I'm already sick of it.” He shrugged. “I didn't think being in a relationship would be this...difficult. Aren't things supposed to be easier if both people[;e care about each other?” John would probably laugh at him if he tried to explain he didn't know what to do. He knew what to do in almost every situation but when it came to dealing with sentiment he was completely lost. It was annoying and frustrating.

John bit back every rude thing he had to say. Of course Sherlock wouldn't want to work anything out. Why would he possibly want to try for another human being? He never had to care for him much before. He was just always there like he always bloody was. Now that he could take something away Sherlock probably found it not worth the effort. "Caring for people is actually pretty difficult."He wondered what Sherlock wanted him to say. "It might be more difficult for you. You don't exactly have a lot of practice."

Of course John was even more upset than just moments before and he didn't really understand why. “I find it harder  _ not  _ to care when it comes to you surprisingly enough.” Sherlock frowned, knowing John was absolutely right. He had not practice at all. “I know I'm not any good at this. You do too, as you have pointed out.” He was an idiot for even trying. This was never going to work, was it? Not when he continued to be utterly useless when sentiment came along. Maybe sending John away was for the best. Then John could find a life without him, get married and have the life he would never be able to give. 

"You're trying," John said, his tone not exacting praising. He knew Sherlock was trying. It was the only reason he could see him giving into letting him go into the army or the fact that he had tried to free him in the first place. "Is it really that difficult for you to put my freedom before what you want?" Sherlock had already agreed, so why didn't he want to talk about it? This was going to be difficult for both of them, but they couldn't just ignore the fact that he would be leaving soon, and he couldn't ignore that he might be leaving Sherlock with someone who kept hurting him.

“Not only am I show off but I'm a selfish arse, so yes it is really that difficult for me.” It was easier to blame it on that than to actually admit that what he wanted was for John to be happy, even if it meant he would end up suffering and being miserable. It was why he had finally agreed to let John go, even if it meant losing him forever. Why couldn't he just say it? Sherlock was going to need a cigarette soon, but they were all gone. He hadn't remembered to buy any while out today. 

John leaned back in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck. He really wasn't sure what answer he had been expecting, but that had been rather blunt. "Well keep trying then." Why did everything turn into an argument these past two days? If he was only going to be here for a little bit, shouldn't they be spending as much time having sex and being together as possible? He had no idea how long Sherlock wanted him to stay. Probably forever. His master just wasn't going to acknowledge that.

Well, at least John seemed less upset. Sherlock wasn't sure why, he thought for sure John would have started yelling at this point. “I'll...get better at this...maybe...or try to anyway.” Maybe he could read a book on how not to be a shitty partner. “Will you stay at least until things with Victor blow over? He'll move onto another easy mark soon enough I think. The end of term at the latest. We could...spend Christmas together away from the manor if you wanted.” He hated Christmas and sending John away right afterward would probably end up making him hate it even more.

"Yeah, I can stay that long." John knew he was probably giving Sherlock more time to change his mind, but he honestly didn't believe his master would. "You are doing better y'know." He was trying to put some confidence in Sherlock. This would never work if his master kept thinking he was incapable or whatever he thought. "The asking, and the trying to get my free. I know its can't be easy, but you're doing it." Now if only he could get Sherlock to actually talk to him instead of just shrugging him off. "Do you want some ice for that?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows in surprise but winced, having forgotten about the black eye until he had inadvertently inflicted pain upon himself. “Am I? That's...good...” He wasn't so sure about that. John was probably just trying to make him feel better. He nodded. “Please. Victor was looking for a fight but I didn't give him one. Got punched anyway.” He sighed and gave a slight shrug. He didn't want to discuss his ex and hopefully that would be the end of the conversation.

"Bastard," John said, barely above a whisper. He jumped up and went into the kitchen to grab an icepack from the freezer. After Sherlock kept getting burned doing experiments, he had stocked up just to have them around. He pulled one out and wrapped it in a cloth before handing it to Sherlock. "Never would have taken him for a sore loser." His voice dripping with sarcasm. If he was free he would have already beaten the shit out of Victor. As it was he would probably be killed the second he laid a hand on him.

“Thank you.” Sherlock took the icepack and placed it gingerly over his eye. It was going to be sore for awhile but the ice would help with the swelling at least. He gave John a faint smirk. “He's a bigger sore loser than I am.” He reached out his hand to take John's. They had been fighting so much lately, he just wanted to be able to enjoy John's company while he still had it. Being close and in contact with John had always been comforting before.

"I would have thought that impossible a few months ago," John said in a dry tone. He closed his hand around Sherlock's and looked down to where they were joined together. It was an overly sentimental touch for his master. Not one for pleasure or gain in anyway. He smiled wryly at Sherlock and chuckled. "Should I pull you into my lap too?" He squeezed Sherlock's hand to show that he didn't mean any malice and tugged on Sherlock's arm to show he was as serious as his master wanted him to be.

Sherlock was about to roll his eyes at John but thought better of it, since the black eye was still tender. He followed the tug of his hand easily, relieved John seemed to be content to not talk about things anymore. For the time being anyway. It helped ease the tension for him at least and the need for a cigarette had passed. John had always had a calming effect on him, but when he had started dating Victor he had lost that and why he had started smoking he supposed. He could only partially lean his head on John's shoulder, since he had to hold the ice pack in place still.

Despite how long and gangly Sherlock was, it was surprisingly easy for John to hold him. He waited for his master to get settled before shifting just a bit, staying still so Sherlock could rest on his shoulder and take whatever he needed from him at the moment. He put his other arm around Sherlock and leaned his head on top of Sherlock's. He thought about asking Sherlock what he planned on doing about Victor, but he knew the answer was probably nothing. His master would rather suffer in silence than admit anything was wrong. "Any better?" 

Sherlock shifted a bit more. "Yes. Thank you." He refrained from mentioning ridiculous sentiment such as snuggling close to John always seemed to make things better. He was pleased they weren't fighting anymore because he found it far more mentally draining than any puzzle he had taken on before. He was quiet awhile, enjoying the silence between them but finally broke it. "Is it something you really want to do? Join the military I mean?" He knew the answer he supposed bit maybe they could discuss it now without yelling or getting frustrated.

"Your welcome." John refrained from saying about the ridiculousness of the situation or anything else that might embarrass Sherlock. He had no issues with sitting in silence and felt disappointed when his master finally broke it. "It would be nice to do something other than being your house maid," he said and then regretted it. He made an unsure noise and shrugged. "Yes, not permanently. Just enough to do some good and earn my freedom. And even if you get me free Sherlock, who is going to hire someone who has only been a slave?"

That probably should have been offensive but Sherlock gave a slight grin at the honest reply John gave. Truth be told, he couldn't blame John for not wanting to spend a lifetime looking after the likes of him. He was rather insufferable at times and left messes everywhere. “Don't be ridiculous John. You won't have to work. I have trust fund that I can live off forever. Money won't be a problem. Or...you could pick up skill in the military of some sort if you want to get a job for some reason.” He would have shrugged but it would compromise his position and it wasn't worth it.

"What am I going to do if I don't work?" The only answer he could think of was be Sherlock's housemaid. Or go to school. John wondered if any school would even accept him. He knew he wasn't near as smart as any free person. He couldn't even read that quickly. "You're going to work. I don't want to just laze about all day." Sherlock was always trying to work, he just couldn't get a case. Maybe he could just help his master with that if no one wanted to hire him.

Sherlock frowned at that question. He honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. He was too worried about John going into the military and then dying horribly. He couldn't think like that so he tried to force it from his mind and keep the conversation going. “Whatever you want? Go out and do things you can't do now? You could always help me when I invent my job. I'm thinking of calling myself a consulting detective, what do you think?” Now he just had to needed to make the Yard take him seriously despite his young age.

"Sounds great. You just have to get someone to consult with you." John knew Sherlock spent a lot of his time off trying to get the Yard to listen to him. They just weren't interested in what his master had to say. Too young and inexperienced. "I suppose I could keep you from calling any of the police officers idiots." Sherlock had been hung up on a few times for that. He slunk down into the chair more and tried to think of things he could do. He could go out on his own more. Not worry about curfew or being asked where his master was. No one could really tell he was a slave unless they asked for his ID.

Sherlock snorted. “The idiots at the Yard won't take me seriously.” He was determined to make them pay attention to him at some point. He gave John a slight smirk. “Pretty sure nothing you could do would stop me from calling them idiots.” He took John's hands in his again, intertwining their fingers as he thought quietly for a moment. “What do you want to do? Anything in particular?” He removed the ice pack from his eye so he could shift and turn his head to look at John.

"I could step on your toes," John offered. He knew the officers at the Yard weren't that stupid. Only in comparison to Sherlock, but that was everyone really. He squeezed Sherlock's hand comfortingly and took a moment to look at his eye before answering. The swelling had gone down at least, but he was going to be bruised for a few more days. "I wouldn't mind going to school. I already know more than most slaves my age. Get a real career," he said, obviously making fun of Sherlock's fake one. "Make my own money, own property. What else can you lot do?"

Sherlock smirked. “Not sure that would help and I would make you pay for it later.” The smirk got bigger, from his obvious devious intent. It faded and he became serious once more. “Then go to school. Find something you enjoy learning about.” He wasn't sure if freed slaves would be given admittance to Uni or even basic schooling. Maybe with his influence as Holmes, he could make it happen. Well, as long as his father didn't try and prevent it in anyway.

"Thanks, Sherlock." John wasn't sure why he was grateful. Maybe just the fact that his master did seem to want this for him. He had to go into the Army first, but after that he would be able to do whatever he pleased. He tried to think of jobs he wanted when he was a little kid. All slave kids thought of them, even if they knew they could never hold them. His first thought was to always be a soldier, but he had also thought about being a doctor. He had also thought of being a driver of some sort, but he was already one of those.

Sherlock thought about telling John, he didn't deserve the life of a slave. That John deserved so much more but that would be admitting any sort of sentiment and John would probably just laugh at him anyway. It was his own fault he supposed, that John thought him incapable of having any sort of feelings at all. Would he ever be comfortable admitting things? Or would John go the rest of their lives believing that he didn't care about him? He was trying to show it in other ways, did that count? Would John even notice?

John watched as Sherlock's mind began to race. After years of living at his side, he had learned to read his tells and moods. "Don't think so much." He gave a small chuckle, kissing Sherlock chastely. He really did love Sherlock, as dumb as it was. His best interest would be to get into the military and get the hell out of here. Never look back to the man who couldn't see him as an equal or admit his feelings. If they existed. He sighed and ran a hand through Sherlock's hair, rubbing his scalp.

Sherlock sighed. "Sorry," he muttered as he cursed himself mentally for being so closed off emotionally. It had never been a problem before because he hadn't needed them until now. John would probably leave him at some point because of it. He would either have to change or end up dying alone. Well, so much for not thinking too much. He sighed again and tried to stop his mind for just a bit. Maybe he could distract himself by snogging with John. He shifted so he could kiss John on the lips.

"Don't be," John said before returning the kiss. He grabbed Sherlock's hair before running his hand down the side of his master's face, careful to avoid his eye. They should probably be talking about something. Him leaving or what Sherlock actually planned to do about Victor. But talking just didn't seem to work with them so maybe this was better. They could assume for the moment that he would be gone for a year at the longest and Victor would find a new playmate and leave Sherlock alone. He could pretend anyway. He deepened the kiss and teasingly pulled back to catch Sherlock's bottom lip between his teeth.

Perfect. John seemed just as content to let things go, at least for a bit. Sherlock gave a small moan when John pulled away with teeth. He rolled so he could straddle John, a smirk on his face. He leaned down for another kiss, letting it last a bit longer this time. Maybe they could do more than just snog. It hadn't been his original intent but he it wouldn't stop from trying to get something going. Shagging problems away probably wasn't best idea but he didn't know how else to deal with things at the moment.

John wasn't in the mood to object to anything that was happening. As it stood he was still a bit starved for physical intimacy, and having Sherlock in his lap felt like forgiveness and a feast. He smirked back and grabbed Sherlock's hips, pulling him closer as he took his mouth. John kissed back hard and showed that he had no intention of letting this just be snogging. His hands moved to Sherlock's back, pulling his master's shirt out of his trousers and running his hands over the skin underneath. He wanted to break away and remind Sherlock that he loved him.

Sherlock smiled and returned the kiss eagerly. “God yes,” he breathed out when he felt John's hands on his skin. He was certain it wouldn't be much longer until he began getting a hard on. To help the process along he writhed into John, enjoying the friction the fabric from clothing caused. He usually strove to get off as fast as possible but right now he was hoping for things lasting a little longer than usual. If only to keep his mind preoccupied for a decent amount of time.

John hummed in response and pushed his hands farther up Sherlock's back, just enjoying touching his master's skin. He gasped when Sherlock began to push against him. No not just kissing then. He pushed his hips up slightly while focusing on his master's mouth and skin. He pushed his hands around the waistband of Sherlock's trousers, pulling the shirt out completely on all sides. He grinned mischievously and lightly ran his fingers from Sherlock's side and over his belly to see if he was ticklish.

Sherlock let out a small moan when John pushed back up. He paused at the light touches. That sensation was new. Was...he being tickled? John had never tried to do that before and it did make him squirm a bit. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling so he didn't try and stop it. Any kind of touch from John was fine with him really, since he constantly craved contact from the other man.

John's grin widened when Sherlock squirmed, but stopped since it didn't result in a laugh or even a giggle. He should have known his master wouldn't be ticklish. To much control over his damn transport. He switched to rubbing up and down Sherlock's sides, hitching up his master's shirt. He pulled away form Sherlock's mouth and breathed for a moment before kissing the underside of his jaw. "We're fine."

Sherlock was enjoying all the attention John's hands were giving his body but sighed at what was said. He stared down at John for a moment. If the other man really was going to leave for the military, shouldn't he say something before it was too late? It shouldn't be that difficult, should it? “John...” He trialed off trying to find the right words. “...I am ridiculous man.” He paused briefly but manged to get out the rest of what he wanted to say. “Redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship.” There. That had to count for something right? To show he cared?

John stopped his exploration when Sherlock sighed. Had that really been too sentimental for Sherlock? It hadn't even been anything to do with love or any emotion. He couldn't help but smirk when Sherlock called himself ridiculous, wanting to argue that he was pretty ridiculous too but allowing his master to finish. He felt his heart sink at Sherlock's final words and waited for just a moment before reacting. He put a hand in his master's hair and pulled him down for a sweet kiss, not sure of what to say. How could Sherlock think he had no redeeming qualities? "Thanks, but you're wrong."

For a moment Sherlock thought he had got it wrong. He never was good with sentiment but then John kissed him, quite nicely and he returned it but then John's words stopped him cold. He had gotten it wrong then? Of course he had. He wanted to ask what but it was likely everything. He really was horrid at these things, wasn't he? Just when he thought he was finally figuring things out too. Well, he had successfully ruined the mood hadn't he?

John kissed Sherlock again because he needed if for nothing than time. He wasn't sure how to explain himself without coming off horribly sentimental. "You're not irredeemable, Sherlock." His hand on the back of Sherlock's head lightly scratched his scalp. "You like to pretend you don't care but you do. Even with your cases. You get more upset when the police get it wrong than you do when they refuse to let you help." He put his head down so he didn't have to meet Sherlock's eyes. 

What John said next genuinely surprised him and Sherlock gave a slight shrug. “I try not to. It isn't an advantage. But you John Watson...there isn't anything rational about you. And when you live the entirety of your life on facts and proof it is a bit unsettling and even difficult to explain things.” He was still terrible at this and he groaned at himself. He buried his face into John's shoulder as he gave up trying to be sentimental. Maybe someday he would get there but he wasn't going to hold his breath.

"Stop trying," John said interrupting Sherlock. He could try to prove how it was an advantage, but he wasn't sure he would be able too. Didn't make it any less important. He rubbed Sherlock's head and neck as his master had a small strop on his shoulder. "Glad to know I'm still a mystery to you." He wanted to tell Sherlock that he didn't have to explain it as long as he never tried to change or give it up. But why would he stop his master from changing for the better?

Sherlock wasn't going to argue with that statement. He was quite out of his depths but at least John seemed to be understanding of it. He relaxed into John, soothed by the comfort the other seemed to do so effortlessly. He turned his head so he could kiss John on the lips, hoping they could finish what he had tried to start earlier before he had ruined things by trying to be sentimental.

John waited for an answer and was greeted with a kiss. He didn't think Sherlock believed him. His master, who seemed to have no idea of self confidence honestly believed he was irredeemable. It was like a bad joke. He kissed Sherlock back eagerly. Maybe he could do this his master's way. Show how he felt through actions. Why would he be with Sherlock if he couldn't see the good in him? "I love you."

Sherlock gave a small smile and continued to kiss John. “Yeah...” He pulled away slowly as he cleared his throat. “...same...” God, he really should just stop trying to do anything involving sentiment. He should resign himself to the fact he would never be good at it. There was plenty he wanted to say, but it all sounded so stupid in his head. John probably wouldn't even believe him.

John chuckled, not with malice, and pulled Sherlock in for another kiss. Honestly it was good enough for now. They only had a few more months at best, and he wasn't going to waste them getting hung up on 'I love you's.' Not when it was obvious he wasn't going to be getting one anytime soon. "You're brilliant." He knew Sherlock liked being praised. He kissed the side of his mouth. "Bloody gorgeous." He lifted his hips into Sherlock's and kissing his neck. "And you are a fantastic fuck."

Sherlock smirked. Only John thought he was brilliant, everyone else just got annoyed with him or told him to 'piss off.' He knew he was of course, he was bloody great at everything. “Well, you aren't too bad looking yourself.” Looks weren't something he particularly paid attention to, but there was no denying that John was a good looking bloke. “Of course I am. I'm brilliant at everything. Stands to reason I'd be great at shagging too.” The smirk got bigger as he tilted his head for John and pressed down a bit into the man below him causing him to moan softly.

John knew there was a downside to stroking Sherlock's ego and there it was. "Can't ever manage a thank you, can you?" He pushed himself up against his master again. He ran his hands through Sherlock's hair and down his back, wanting to get that shirt off of him so he could feel skin. He started to slowly working on the buttons, kissing the skin as he was exposed. "Did it take you so long to become brilliant at everything else too?" He asked, already prepared for the aghast look or anything else Sherlock gave to him. "Or was fucking the only thing you had to practice?" He looked up as he pulled away from his master's chest.

Sherlock gave a slight shrug. “Why thank you for saying something true?” He rolled his at what John said next, but he lacked the motivation to give a retort back because his shirt was being removed and skin being kissed. It felt rather wonderful, like it always did. He was getting back in the mood again. Wasn't like it was hard with John kissing and touching him. He was sure he would be able to get hard sooner rather than later and he pressed down eagerly into John once more.

"It's polite," John retorted, knowing that was never going to happen. He wasn't sure how Sherlock was able to manage being insufferably sure of himself and then go through what had just happened five minutes ago. He was either to complex for his own good or this was an amazing bravado. He helped Sherlock shrug off his shirt and threw it to the floor. He rubbed his hands over his master's shoulders and back, enjoying the feeling of Sherlock's smooth skin against his fingertips. He took his time, kissing his master's chest and teasingly brushing his lips across one of his nipples. Sherlock wasn't even hard yet (it was usually so obvious through the tight trousers he wore all the time), and neither was he, so there was no need to rush.

Since when did he care about being polite? Sherlock was still far distracted by John's wonderful mouth and hands to be able comment. Bloody tease. Not that he really minded of course. He continued to roll into John. Determined to at least return some of the attention, he slid his fingers up John's shirt to scratch at the others back lightly and one traveled even further down to snake down the waist band of the trousers and past the pants so he could cup John's arse. He was quite pleased when he felt his cock finally twitching to life.

John kissed Sherlock's chest sweetly, giving each of the nipples just passing attention before focusing his attention of the rest of his master's skin. He wanted to try to do what he had failed to do the other night. Drag this out as long as possible, while keeping Sherlock interested the whole time of course. He jumped just slightly when Sherlock dragged his nails across his skin, not expecting the returning touch. He let out a small sigh of pleasure and could only smirk when Sherlock grabbed his arse. He pushed up against Sherlock's crotch and kissed up to his collarbone.

“God I love you,” Sherlock breathed out before he even really had time to realize what he'd actually said. Everything was feeling so amazing and he was so relaxed, he'd spoken without any forethought or filter. It finally caught up with him, as he realized he uttered those words out loud and not said them in his head. Just keep going. Don't stumble and be an idiot about it. Maybe John wouldn't notice. He focused on the fingers grazing John's back and squeezed the arse in hand. He pressed his now full erection against John, enjoying the friction that was caused and he gave a soft moan.


	24. Chapter 24

John froze just long enough for it to be noticeable. "I know," he said, because he had. Even if Sherlock hadn't wanted to admit it for whatever reason he had been hung up on, he hadn't been able to really doubt him. He smiled as he kissed Sherlock's neck, moaning with his master when he'd squeezed his arse and pressed against him hard. His cock strained against his trousers, and he doubted his ability to make this last. Maybe he should let Sherlock lead for once. "I love you too." He captured Sherlock's mouth for another kiss, deepening the kiss quickly and rubbing his tongue against his master's. He didn't want Sherlock to get caught up in the sentiment if it was only going to make him question this.

Sherlock had noticed John's hesitation but he didn't want getting lost in his head ruining anything. He returned the kiss eagerly. “I love you,” he repeated. Maybe if he said it enough times he would stop feeling like an idiot for saying it. He broke the kiss, so he could put their foreheads together. The hand running along John's back came to stroke the others cheek, fingers still gliding lightly. Tenderness was not something he thought himself capable of but he was determined to prove his words were true, even though John had already told him he knew.

John was surprised when Sherlock broke the kiss to say it again, but pushed in anyway. He wasn't scared of sentiment, but he knew his master was. His worries were apparently unneeded before Sherlock broke the kiss again...to push their foreheads together. The gesture was touching, sentimental, and tender. Something he would expect to see on the telly during an important romantic moment. He put his hands on his master's back and stroked him gently and tenderly. Despite his aching arousal, he couldn't bring himself to try to speed this up.

Now Sherlock didn't know what to do. He had been trying to be, what was the word...romantic? He felt silly for it but he was determined not to let himself get hung up on being afraid of sharing sentiment. He could this. There. Be confident and arrogant like always. He should probably stop staring down at John and do something though. He moved his head so he could kiss John on the lips slowly, but fully. The hand on John's face dropped to the floor to help keep him balanced. He rutted against John with just enough force to feel the friction of the clothing moving against his erection.

John quirked a small smile as he saw the gears spinning in Sherlock's head. His master was obviously trying hard to show some semblance of emotion. He didn't mind waiting for Sherlock to make a move, though he did appreciate the soft kiss when it finally came. He returned it, deepening the kiss and bringing one of his hands up to cup his master's cheek. He moaned softly into Sherlock's mouth, and his other hand moved down to his master's arse. He used his grip to pull Sherlock against him. "Don't thinks so hard."

Sherlock smirked a bit. "I'm a genius, I am always thinking about something. And how can I not be hard when rutting against a bloke such as yourself?" The smirk got bigger, obviously pleased with himself. It was clear he was becoming more confident now. He resumed the kiss, moaning into it softly as he continued to press into John eagerly.

Oh Christ. "You're such a smart arse." John rolled his eyes, pushing into kiss Sherlock again, and let out a small sigh. He moved his other hand down to Sherlock's arse and squeezed none too gently, hoping to get a reaction out of his master. "But I think I heard a compliment in that."  He pulled away from the kiss with a small shrug.

Sherlock returned the kiss readily.“Better than being a dumb arse.” The smirk returned and his eyes full of mischief. He moaned from the squeeze and he leaned back a bit into John's hands. “I want to take you.” Usually he let John do the giving but he felt like he still needed to prove his words were true to John, so there was no room for doubt. He leaned down to kiss John on the lips, hands finally moving down to start undo his trousers.

John nodded quickly at the request, his arousal spiking at the thought. It had been a while since he had that sort of attention (well since the last time Sherlock had fucked him to be accurate), so maybe it was for the best they were taking things slow. He squeezed his master's arse again, and pushed into the kiss. He pulled Sherlock more into his lap and let go so he could start undoing the buttons on his shirt. "We should move from the chair.” He wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock was able to find some lube in the cushions, but that didn't leave a lot of positions unless he was going to ride Sherlock.

“Bed?” Sherlock asked as he helped John remove his shirt. He didn't want things to feel rushed or happen to fast, so he didn't mind having the few steps it would take to get the bedroom, even though just shagging on the floor would happen sooner. He was going to do this right. Be gentle and caring and loving. All the attributes he lacked in the daily functions of life. He needed to prove to himself and John he was capable of being in a relationship. He was going to be arrogant and confident about it just like he was everything else, it was just taking longer than usual to get there.

John shrugged his shirt off and nodded again. "I think that could work." He smirked and turned so he could get his feet on the  floor and pushed up to kiss Sherlock once more. He could see his master thinking again and wondered what it would take for him to just stop. He had finally been able to say what he meant when he did. He started to undo Sherlock's shirt quickly, smiling at his master easily as he did.

Sherlock shrugged off his shirt with John's help as he returned the kiss. He was eager to start even though he already mentally told himself he wasn't going to rush anything this time. He finally got off John and offered his hand so he could led them to the bedroom. His pants and now the front of his trousers were stained by his obvious desire and while he waited he wiggled out of them since he'd already undone the belt and button.

John took Sherlock's hand and followed him into the bedroom. He saw his master's obvious erection and wondered how long he would actually be willing to wait. He seemed determined too make this last for him. Or for both of them. He didn't waste any time taking off his trousers and pants once in the bedroom, pulling them too the floor. He pulled Sherlock into another kiss before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "So how do you want me?" He asked, his tone teasing.

Sherlock watched John undress the rest of the way in appreciation. He hadn't thought about that yet actually and he shrugged a bit at the question. “I can straddle you and you can wrap your legs around me.” That way he could see John while they shagged and they could kiss and touch. He didn't stumble over his sentimental thoughts and merely reached for a bottle of lubrication that was nearby. He slicked himself down first and then squirted more on his fingers so he could prepare John next.

John's smile widened and he laid back onto the bed. "This is going to be strange, you on top." It wasn't that odd really, just not something they had done frequently the first time they had been together. Or whatever they had been the first time. He spread his legs and brought his knees up closer to his chest, giving Sherlock a good view and plenty of access. "Just go slow.”

Sherlock smirked a bit. “I know but...I want to see your face,” he admitted and still refused to get flustered over his stupid sentiment. He moved onto the bed. “I will,” he promised. He slid in one finger first, sliding it in and out slowly. When he felt John stretch a bit, he eased in a second finger. Then a third and finally a fourth. “Ready?” He was never going to make the mistake he had made the first time he had tried to shag John.

John kept quiet, determined not to tease Sherlock for trying. He preferred to shag his master facing him too, but they both knew he could be sentimental. He held his knees and tried to lay back and relax while Sherlock fingered him open. His cock leaked and he panted hard while his master opened him.  "Yeah, please." He was desperate, pushing down on Sherlock's fingers.

Sherlock nodded and stroked himself a few more times with a lubricated hand just in case, causing himself to moan softly. He straddled John and inserted himself slowly, letting out a loud and low moan of pleasure. “God, you feel good already.” He wasn't one to talk much while shagging but he was trying to do things different this time. He began a slow pace, leaning down to kiss John on the lips gently. One hand moved to run through John's hair and the other gripped the head board to help give him balance.

John moved his hands to the back of his thighs and braced himself while Sherlock pushed into him. He made small noises before letting out a long groan. Fuck he felt so full, and past the oddness it felt amazing. "Oh fuck, Sherlock." He wrapped his legs around Sherlock like he had wanted him too, bringing his master closer to him. He put his hands on the bed and pushed himself up to kiss Sherlock. "You're going to drive me crazy." He pushed into his master and moaned at the feeling.

Sherlock smirked behind the kiss. “Then we are even because you have been driving me crazy for quite sometime.” He resumed the kiss after speaking, his tongue pushing gently past the lips so it could move around inside John's mouth. He managed to keep a controlled, set pace that wasn't too fast. It was different doing it like this. For starters he was the one doing the actual shagging but almost all their previous shaggings had been fast and mostly sloppy and needy. He broke the kiss again and moved his lips to start kissing along John's neck lightly, working his way down to the shoulder.

John felt himself blushed and hoped it wasn't too obvious. He pushed himself farther up, opening his mouth for Sherlock and pushing back against him gently. His master was fucking him so slowly and it was as wonderful as it was teasing. He tilted his head up when Sherlock started to kiss his neck, humming at the sensation. "You feel amazing."

“So do you,” Sherlock murmured against John's skin. His mouth moved on from the shoulder, down to the chest now. He kissed about half way down before making his way back up toward the other shoulder. His kisses continued all the way back up the neck and then returned to John's lips. The hand that had been in John's hair moved to the other man's cock and he began stroking John in time with his thrusts, not minding the leaking fluid getting on his hand.

John pushed into Sherlock's touch and let himself fall back to the bed as Sherlock kissed his chest and neck. He gripped the sheets and gasped at the pleasure as his master continued to thrust slowly into him. Along with the kisses he wasn't sure he had ever felt this good bottoming for Sherlock. It had always been a bit of a fast blur, all of their fucking was really. He gasped loudly when Sherlock grabbed his cock, thrusting into his hand. "Of fucking Christ."

Sherlock smirked, pleased with himself for the reactions he was getting out of John. “Like that do you?” He murmured and then continued to kiss. He paused in stroking John, his thumb moving to the slit of the cock and he began to rub small circles around. He wondered if that would do anything for John. All the sounds and movement John was making was getting him excited but managed to stay in control and continued on with his slow thrusts.

John nodded, not even wanting to play coy at this point. He wondered if this is how he made Sherlock feel when he stopped and took the time to tease his master. His breath hitched when Sherlock started to play with his sensitive slit. He was tense and shaking. He was going to come soon if his master kept doing that. "That feels amazing. You're incredible, Sherlock." He was now sure which feeling he wanted more. He pushed himself up again to kiss Sherlock, wanting more of his mouth.

The words John spoke only built his confidence about this whole experience. They would have to try this again sometime. John was obviously enjoying it and he found it quite thrilling he was able to evoke such a response. And of course it felt wonderful. He returned the kiss with a soft moan and went back to stroking John's cock, not wanting to tease the other too much. His slow thrusts went on, hoping he could make this last longer than just the usual quick fuck.

John kissed Sherlock back and pushed into his mouth with his tongue. He pushed into his master's hand and back onto his cock, loving every sensation.. He realized he hadn't been touching Sherlock back at all and wondered how that had even happened. Everything just had been so much even if it had been slow. He braced himself on one hand and brought the other one up to cup Sherlock's cheek. He let his hand trail down Sherlock's neck and to his chest.

Sherlock had been so focused on giving John attention he hadn't even noticed the lack of attention on himself. He smiled and moaned into the kiss when he felt it though and he couldn't help but pick up the pace just a little now. There were so many things going on. To feel and experience it was hard to keep his self control. The pace was moderate now, his hand on the cock picking up speed as well to match his thrusts still.

John didn't mind when the pace finally started to pick up. Everything that was already so intense just increased in feeling and he was struggling to keep up. He rubbed at Sherlock's chest and nipples, leaning forward to kiss at his neck and return the favor. He nearly gave in and told Sherlock to fuck him rough, just to get him over the edge. Instead he bit his lip and ground down against his master, working himself in between the two competing sensations.

Christ. John knew just how to turn him on and his self control began to deteriorate. Hopefully he wouldn't ruin things but the pace continued to gradually get faster and harder, his hand on the cock still keeping up with his thrusts. Sherlock moaned, as he watched John kiss and touch him. He finally leaned down to kiss and lick along John's ear, while his neck was being worked on. The grip on the headboard became tighter to help keep him in place better.

John moaned and gasped as Sherlock started to thrust into him harder. He grabbed Sherlock's shoulder to keep himself up as he continued to kiss and suck on Sherlock's neck. He shivered as Sherlock kissed and licked at his ear, finding it odd that such a small place was so sensitive when everything else was going on. Not long had passed when he broke away to kiss Sherlock's mouth, moaning into his mouth. He was going to come soon and could feel his arousal building.

Sherlock returned the kiss readily, moaning as well. At this rate he wasn't going to make the shagging last as long as he wanted but they were both enjoying it and he had no inclination to slow down now. There was so much going on and it was all wonderful. As he suspected, he didn't last too much longer and he came moaning out John's name loudly. He was exhausted from the exertion but he managed not to collapse just yet and kept his hand pumping on the John's cock. He did wiggle a little so he could pull his now limp cock out though, some of his come getting on the sheets as there was a bit of a mess on him still.

John gripped both of Sherlock's shoulders, pulling him down to his level. He met him thrust for thrust, wanting to come like this, with Sherlock thrusting inside him and stroking his cock. He gasped and groaned when he felt his master come inside him, and continued to grind down onto his cock until he was done. All it took was a few more strokes from Sherlock and he came too, spilling his seed onto his stomach and Sherlock's hand. He let go of Sherlock and laid back int the bed, breathing hard with effort.

When he felt John come Sherlock allowed him to relax and collapsed to one side of John, also breathing with a bit of difficulty. He wiped what he could from his hand onto a cleaner part of the sheets. After a moment his breathing was under control and he spoke with a smirk. “Best shag we've ever had I do believe.” And it was. Or at least for him it had been. Hopefully for John too. He didn't care about the mess at the moment, he wanted to snuggle with John so he shifted and laid his head on John's shoulder.

"One of the best," John corrected, not willing to give up on the number of times he had completely overwhelmed Sherlock. Not that it was hard he thought to himself with a self righteous grin. He turned his head to kiss his master's forehead and didn't move. He was messy and needed to clean himself up before everything dried, but he could probably wait for a bit. He put his arms around Sherlock and pulled him close, getting the feeling that Sherlock just wanted to lay here. "Thank you."

Well, that would have to do Sherlock figured. He would just have to try harder next time. Although at the moment he couldn’t fathom what more he could do for John. He could worry about it later. He grinned at being thanked, lifted and turned his head so he could give John a quick kiss on the lips before snuggling back into the shoulder. “I'm the one who should be thanking you.” They should probably get up and shower but he was comfortable.

John returned the kiss and smiled as he laid his head back down. "How so?" He asked, trying to reason how Sherlock had worked that one out. He had just given him an incredible fuck. Plus the whole thing of him letting him go to into the Army and all that. He didn't want to think about that at the moment. He wanted to focus on having Sherlock in his arms and the tingly feeling in his arse that was probably going to last till tomorrow.

“For helping me get here...where we are now. You...you always keep me right.” Sherlock wasn't sure if that explaination would make sense to John but he didn’t' know how else to say it. “Fancy a shower?” He asked as he slowly forced himself up, even though he didn't want to move from his spot. He got out of the bed and looked over to John expectantly.

John listened to the sentiment and tried to take in what Sherlock meant. He supposed most would probably think his master would be better off without a 'manipulative' slave like him, but Sherlock didn't see it that way. Neither did he of course, but it was nice to hear that his master felt the same. He pulled himself out of bed and pulled Sherlock into a deep, but short kiss. "Thanks...and yes." He moved to go get the water going.

Sherlock smiled behind the short kiss, returned it and then followed after John into the bathroom. He got into the shower, once the water temperature was acceptable to him. “Wash your Master?” He asked with a bit of smirk, once John was inside with him. “If you do a good job, I suppose your Master can humble himself and return the favor.”

John stepped into the shower after Sherlock and raised his eyebrows at the display. He moved to quickly smack Sherlock's arse enough to sting, turning away quickly to grab a cloth. "Of course, Master. Should I get on my knees and start with your feet?" His face was perfectly sincere for about five seconds before he had to crack into a smile.

“Good to know I have trained you well.”All Sherlock could do was grin after that, unable to keep with the charade anymore. Then he moved forward a bit to kiss John on the lips, arms wrapping around the other man in a quick hug. He stepped back again so John would be able to wash him easily. He knew John would do a good job but really he just wanted to feel John's fingers in his hair when the time came for his hair to be washed.

John thought about smacking Sherlock in the arse again for that, but instead just wrapped his arms around him and returned the kiss. It was all just a game anyway, and one Sherlock wouldn't be able to play for long. He got the soap and began to wash Sherlock's chest and neck, taking his time to get the sweat and crud off of him. He washed his back and then grabbed the shampoo to wash his hair.

Sherlock groaned in appreciation when he felt John's fingers in his hair, bending his head down so John wouldn't have to reach as far. He wrapped his arms around John once more, holding the other close to him as the digits worked through his follicles quite wonderfully. He smiled down at John giving him another kiss on the lips.

And that was how the next few months went for them. Things got better but eventually it was time for John to leave.


	25. Chapter 25

John left for the army only a few months after that. Sherlock's semester finished and Christmas came and went. They had ran out of excuses. His master enlisted him and they said goodbye. He wouldn't be able to visit or call. The one thing he was allowed to do, he found out, was write letters. He used the small bit of money he was given to buy stamps and sent letters when he could.

_Sherlock,_

_I just finished basic training. I wish I had more time to write you but they keep us busy here at camp. I'm sorry I couldn't send one sooner. We get the day off before we are shipped out, so we can let off steam. A lot of the other soldiers went out drinking. But people like me, slaves, we don't get the privilege. So, I am taking the time I have to send you this letter. I've missed you everyday. You are probably done with your year by now, or close to it. Its hard to believe it has been six months since we last saw each other. I don't know when I'll be able to write again. I'll try to be home again as soon as I can. I just have to make sure I do something to get noticed and earn my freedom. Miss you._

_Love,_

_John H. Watson_

Sherlock was miserable without John. He tried using another slave from the manor to do the tasks John used to do but it didn't work out. He ended up learning how to do all manners of domestic things. Though he usually waited last minute to do it. His flat was a chaotic mess and he ate take away a lot, on the rare occasions he did eat. He was about to leave the flat for the summer when he got a letter. It was from John! He sat down and read it a few times just so he could hear the other man's voice in his head while he read the words. He finally sat down to write his own.

_Dear John,_

_I'm sure you will do great. You are strong and capable. You also have a far more focused sense morality than I do and I'm sure you will do the right thing when it the time comes. Just be careful. Don't do anything careless or stupid. No unnecessary risks. Remember you have someone to come home to. I miss you too. I tried using another slave to do all the menial things around the flat but it didn't work out. I could never replace someone like you. Not that I'd want to. I am going back to the manor today. I'm sure my parents will be as insufferable as usual. I can't wait to move out for good after I graduate but I yearn for the day when you will be home a freeman. Take care of yourself John Watson. My thoughts are with you._

_William Sherlock Scott Holmes_

John had already lost the unit he had trained with, except for one bloke, by the time he had received the letter from Sherlock. He had dragged a man to safety and got promoted to lieutenant after that, despite his status as a slave. It made things a bit difficult for him though. No one wanted to listen to him that wasn't a slave already and some men flat refused to take orders from him. He finally got time to write back, he had a bit more free time as an officer now. He avoided mentioning any specifics about war, he didn't want to explain that kind of thing to Sherlock.

_Sherlock,_

_I got promoted to Lieutenant. The details aren't important but hopefully by showing my bravery and courage I will be able to earn my freedom that way. I'm still not sure how it works. No one wants to take orders from me though. Well, those that are free anyway. Luckily for me, you let me be in control enough I'm not half bad at giving orders anyway. I think about you often. I just wanted to let you know I am well and safe. Sorry this one is so short. I will write again when I can._

_Love you,_

_John H. Watson_

Sherlock was about half way through his summer holiday by the time he got John's letter. His bastard father had thrown it away but Mrs. Hudson had saved it from the bin and gave it to him late in the evening when most of the manor was sleeping. He smiled and thanked her, before locking his door and opening to read it.

_Dear John,_

_Congratulations on the promotion. You must be sparing me the details because you did something stupid to get it. As long as you are safe, that is all that really matters to me. Is it too much to ask to be a little more careful in the future? I suppose you are going to do what you want to, no matter how much I ask you to take care of yourself. Sometimes I think you are more stubborn than I am. Well, I hope by the time you get this those men under your command will be listening better. They are all idiots if they are getting hung up on social status. It seems to me in war it shouldn't matter. I think I miss you more with each passing day. Come home soon._

_My Best Wishes,_

_William Sherlock Scott Holmes_

The letters went back and forth for five years. John became a captain by the third year of being in the military, for his constant bravery and consideration for his men under his command. Eventually, most of the disdain for him being a slave was a nonexistent issue. He became well liked and respected by those around him. There were always those few who still gave him shit, but he hardly took notice of it. Most of them weren't dumb enough to challenge a captain directly anyway.

At the rate things were going, John thought he would be in the military forever. It seemed no matter what he did, nothing would earn his freedom. He could get promoted but he felt like they wouldn't offer him his freedom so they could keep and use, until his usefulness ran out. He was out on patrol with his men, when they were ambushed. He got shot in the shoulder, but even though he was bleeding and felt like he was dying, he saved three of his men before he passed out.

John thought for sure he was going to die, but when he woke up he was in hospital. His shoulder hurt, a lot. He had been told he was going home. The best part was he was finally free, for going above and beyond the call of duty. He wanted to tell Sherlock right away but he had no way at the moment. He would just have to wait. Maybe he would surprise Sherlock. Unfortunately he didn't get back to London for almost almost six months. He went through two surgeries and a long rehabilitation process to get the range of motion back. He finally got in touch with Sherlock and when he got off the plane, he looked around anxiously. He was free now and he was a little nervous about it. Despite having become a captain in the military and having some form of freedom, he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

Sherlock managed to graduate in three years, instead of four. With honors of course. The letters weren't enough for him. They were sporadic at best. After getting out of Uni he spiraled into a downwards path. He started taking drugs, anything for a distraction. He met a young copper by the name of Lestrade, who arrested him when he was strung out and basically dying. They ended up becoming friends of sorts. Lestrade helped him get clean and Sherlock helped him with cases. He was finally a consulting detective, the only one in the world. It didn't take long for Lestrade to become a Detective Inspector after that.

The period of time when John had been in the hospital had been the worse because it had been the longest the letters hadn't come. Almost two months. Sherlock was about to ask Mycroft to look into it. His brother had obtained a 'minor position' in the British Government a couple years ago. Then he finally got a letter. He had smoked more cigarettes than usual but at least he hadn't fallen into worse habits while he waited in agonizing worry. He was upset to hear John had been shot, but he would be coming home a freeman! That...was incredible.

The time finally came and Sherlock was waiting at the airport. When he saw John he had to resist the urge to run. When they were were close enough, the shared a close and tight hug. “God I've missed you so much.” Almost six years had gone by. It had been far too long in his opinion...but worth it now he supposed. They kissed without shame for a while, neither wanting to let the other go. He finally pulled away and smiled down at John. “I've got my own flat in London. Its on Baker Street. It can be your home too, if you want.”

John was overwhelmed with joy when he saw Sherlock. It was all so surreal feeling, he thought he might just be dreaming. The firm hug reminded him this was reality though. “I missed you too,” he murmured before he returned the kiss readily. He didn't care if some people stared at them. He smiled back at Sherlock. “Of course I do. Let's go home.” He held onto Sherlock's hand as they went to get his one large Army bag. They got into a cab and he stared out the window as London passed, a smile on his lip and his hand still gripped firmly in Sherlock's. He wasn't sure what the future held, but he was certain it was the beginning of an exciting adventure. One he would be sharing with Sherlock and that was what mattered to him the most.


End file.
